High Stakes
by Meshou
Summary: Hana x Hatori romance fic. R for Angst, language and citrus.
1. Novelty

A/N: Hana x Hatori. R for a couple of citrus chapters, some violence, and language. Angst, and light waff.

Disclaimer: Fruits Basket and its characters aren't mine, but belong to the artist and its official publishers. This story is mine, though.

Streets are only the veins of The City, and like the cliche, cities have minds. Or rather, personality. It has memory, attitude, scars. If you could listen, you could hear the murmur of an ant hill.

Not that you'd want to. They all have sort of a one track mind. On the grand scale, The City is a terrifying experience. An anthill doesn't care about the ants, just that The Hill survives.

If an ant could know this as well as Hana did, it'd pee itself. Hana didn't do that, it having lost its novelty when she was four.

Long past the age of four, Hanajima Saki was walking down the street, hair in a high bun. She did not do so often- put her hair up or go on walks. But it was windy and a little wet out, and the streets were nearly deserted. She liked this weather. She could be alone outside.

She was getting out more than she did before highschool ended. Hana worked for a year before entering cram-school. She would have gone straight in, if her dad hadn't died when he did.

Hana had a small measure of autonomy, because of that. Or rather, because she had worked, and later because she had to pull all nighters at the library often. School was not every day, but there was enough work to bog her down. It was easy to remember essential stuff, but she got extremely tired of memorizing things she'd never need anyway.

What she wanted to do was to sit somewhere quiet and analyze something. As long as it wasn't math, she was fine with it. Math was tedious. Getting the most consistently good grades in it annoyed her.

Despite the amount she had to be in public, a lot if the time Hana barely had the dempa under control. But today, she was restless, and walking distracted her. Plus she needed the practice. Not in using her psychic powers, but in not using them. Staying disciplined enough to have her own coherent thoughts was hard enough in her own house, never mind outside.

She was walking along a reservoir. A fence kept the kiddies from falling in, and a wall kept them from playing in other people's yards. There was a clinic down the block. She knew from having passed by another time and seeing patients come out that they did kidney dialysis.

There were walls there. She had no way of knowing if anyone was inside, really. No reason to go in and look to find out, because her kidneys were fine, she told herself. Four was a little late to stop wetting herself, though.

The dempa stirred a little, but stayed dormant. She resisted sickly pull to let go and let the mood of the sickly inside flood into her. It was easier. She'd let her dad in, when he was going. He put on a good show, but she'd felt the horrible all-consuming stress, and was almost relieved when it was replaced by resignation. It was strange, she wanted to feel it again. It was like a warm blanket.

She steeled herself and told herself she had no way of knowing someone was dying in there, and tried to go over her day in her head again. She'd learned this trick from Tohru. Keeping the babble going in her own head did drowned out all other thoughts, and kept her from concentrating too long on something that might disturb her.

Hana didn't have to feel people on the other side of walls, as long as she concentrated. She kept telling herself that, and she was closer every day to believing it.

As she approached the path, an tall man in a dark suit walked out. Hana froze. Despite having her guard up, something that unusual was hard to ignore. If she had the guard down in the first place, she might have had some trouble. It would have been disorienting.

She walked up to the man, who was leaning against door of the car parked immediately in front, absently lighting a cigarette. She stared at him for a long time, squinting. Nothing became any clearer to her.

"Who are you?" she said.

"Excuse me?" he said, taking notice of her for the first time.

"Who are you?"

He gave her an odd look. He was thin. The suit didn't quite fit him, but was obviously tailor made. His skin hung a little lose on his frame, like the suit. He'd lost weight recently.

"Young lady, I am not in the mood for a conversation. Excuse me."

"I don't want your name. Who, exactly, are you? Why are you like this?"

"You shouldn't ask a stranger that question."

"Why?"

He tensed up. He'd forgotten he had a cigarette, and let it burn down while he looked at her.

"Good day."

He turned away, willfully ignoring her.

"I wonder how I'll remember this." she said.

"What?" He turned and looked at her again, this time more focused. His eyes where almost white, irises rimmed with dark murky brown. It gave him an intense, uncanny look. He seemed to be in high contrast; dark brown hair, untanned skin, unnaturally light eyes.

Well, eye. One was hidden behind his hair. The hair wasn't long, as in grown out, but merely left uncut.

"I... I don't know. Some days, I go over events over and over again. Other days, I hardly remember them. I've done a lot of things lately I know I couldn't have done before, and I wonder if I was capable of doing them until I had done them. I wonder, if I forget... I guess, what it was like to bury someone, for instance. I don't remember it every day. I wonder, if I forget it, will I still act as if it'd happened?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. She was used to this. He was deciding if she was crazy. Maybe she was lately.

"Why... are you asking me this?"

"Because I think you're the kind of person who would know.

His eyes widened. "Who are you?"

Hana opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She wheeled around to the door, almost falling over.

It had to be a person. Nothing else was that focused. It filled her consciousness with a deep red so thick she felt herslef begin to choke on it.

Everything around her turned faded and purple, as the red covered her. Every pore in her body screamed as she felt the dark seep in as it said something.

She felt sick. Not the slow, strange feeling of nausea, but the violent need to force out the vileness. She fell to the ground and threw up on the curb, before drifting into darkness.

Hana was suddenly aware her eyes were open. They had been for a long time, and were scratchy. The ceiling above her was wooden. If she looked long enough, the small knots would arrange themselves into faces, then break off and join another arrangement of mouth, eyes, and optional nose.

There was a warm drop on her cheek. She brushed off.

_Have I been crying?_

She smelled the clear liquid, then tasted. It was salty, bitter, and medicinal.

_Eyedrops._

Also, she was in very nice clothes. She hadn't looked down toward her feet yet. There was the warm, reassuring weight of a blanket covering her, which contrasted with the slipperiness of silk, directly on her skin.

She'd been dressed. She'd scraped her cheek and arm, but they'd been cleaned.

Some of what happened played back, but it was mostly blank. She'd... pissed herself. Wonderful. Not something she wanted anyone else to deal with, but she couldn't change what happened.

The ceiling, as fascinating as the grain of the wood happened to be, was beginning to bore her.

_Time to sit up then. Any minute now._

She finally did sit up and look around. Everything was a sort of muted beige or brown- wood floor, clean yet aging plaster walls, faded gold leaf on the decorative panels built into the wall. The light from the open screen doors washed out everything further. Anything that might have any color was muted by heavy, unfiltered brightness. The furniture didn't even bother to cast long gloomy shadows. That might have given character to the place.

There was a certain efficiency in the sterile room. A definite academic atmosphere. No college academic, because of the marked absence of piles of underwear on the floor and takeout boxes. The sort of academic that organizes everything by date, height and romanji alphabetical order, because he might actually need to find things quickly.

Most things on the bookshelf were apparently out of order. But they weren't, she realized. They were in alphabetical order by what he thought of them as.

If he knew the author (she could tell because there were several of the author's books), it went by author name, then how often he used them (by how worn the spine was). If he thought of it by title, it was by title.

He knew English, because of many of the books were in the language, and some of the placement of the books would require more than just knowledge of the alphabet. One book placement made no sense, until she saw the color. A blue book, under "B." He thought of that one in terms of color, not even by topic. It was very worn.

It was all organized for speed of reference. Whoever organized these had read all of them, and had his own mental shorthand for each. He also knew himself well enough to know how he referred to them in his own head was more important than the title, if he needed to find them quickly. Entirely practical.

_I'm in love..._ she thought to herself, half joking. The amount of control the man had over his surroundings was almost as impressive as the presence of the man himself. Everyone treats their house, office and living space as extensions of themselves. He consciously used this to his advantage.

Hana _liked_ discipline.

She looked at the desk.

There was one thick file on it. She stood, not at all shakily, and opened the tan folder to the first page. The header at the top of the stationary was also in English.

_-H. SOUMA- A Souma then. Like Yuki, Kyou and Shigure, perhaps. But not like them._

She read further. It was something about another Souma named Akito. Very sick. It was interesting to flip through. Some of the medical terms she knew, but not all of them. Many she could figure out. "Ametatheriomorphic.' was a mystery to her. It was underlined, had its own line, and was left unmodified. It was also the only one in the English alphabet, and left without comment.

"Hello," she said, not looking up, "thank you very much for cleaning me up."

Hatori paused when he saw her, bent over the folder, hair down. The kimono she wore fit very well, although she was a couple inches too short for it. She'd thrown the sleeves up high in her arms, and stood with her feet too far apart, either unaware of how to wear it, or uncaring.

He squared his shoulders and walked in. The floor did not creek, and he was light on his feet for his height. He was sure he'd been absolutely silent.

"It is unethical for you to look at another person's chart. And rude to stare at those pictures."

"Then you shouldn't have left it there for any curious stranger to rifle through. I think this front view of him is really breathtaking."

"I am not interested in knowing anything about that." he said briskly.

"Nudity bothers you? How did you manage with me then?"

"I'm a doctor. I manage."

"Good. Not interested in the nudity, in any case. He has a certain... presence, doesn't he? I usually don't get that just from photos. He's quite unashamed."

"There are worse things to him than being naked."

"Oh? Then he's intelligent as well. Would you introduce me?"

"Young lady, I-"

"Oh... Not comfortable with him?"

"That is not your concern."

"It becomes my concern whether I want it to or not. Is he a lover?"

He did not move, but Hana blinked. "No? He seems to be very important."

"He is a family member. You have heard of the Soumas."

"Yes, I've heard of you. Photographs of most people don't look real anyway. They look just like furniture. It's how he's standing."

Hatori knew the picture. He'd taken it. Akito was mostly naked, with his arms stretched away from his sides to show his proportions. Akito had several disorders, and he'd had to send some of the photos away to specialists in other countries. He couldn't call someone in.

"Does he see himself as a Christ-figure?"

"No, I asked him to stand that way, he just stretched out a little more. He's not dying for anyone's sins. Perhaps he lives for them. I think that's how he sees himself."

"That's very personal. Why are you telling me?"

Hatori sat without answering.

"Is he the person from outside the clinic?" Hana asked.

"You don't recognize him?"

"No. Most people look nothing like their photographs. I guess they don't really steal your soul. You look just like yours, though, I bet."

"So, I am soulless."

"No, just remarkable, I guess. You don't like to sleep in public."

"What?"

"No. Just an observation. What do you do if you must? I would like to know that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.

"Really?"

He didn't know what to say to that. He balled his hands up into fists.

"I apologize." she said. "I have an advantage over you."

"Advantage?"

"Your gift is different than mine. We're not on equal footing."

"Really?"

"Yes. What is your talent? Not dempa, then what?"

Hatori sighed. He walked over to his desk and sat down, heavily. He pointed over to a chair in the corner.

"This is not going to go anywhere if I pretend I don't know what you're talking about, and you assume I _do_ know. If you must explain something to me, assume I know absolutely nothing on the subject, and I will stop you if you are over explaining. Cards on the table?"

"You first," she said.

"Fine. I am able to see, search through, and remove memory."

Hana pulled up the other chair and sat, "You want something or else I wouldn't be here. Why haven't you searched through my memory for whatever it is?"

"You'd remember it. I'd have to remove the memory of that as well. If you struggle, it'll be tedious and violent. I'm not going to do it if I'm not sure there's something to be found, or I absolutely must. You?"

"I can read dempa. Auras, I guess."

"You read minds?"

"No. The experience of being someone gives them the luxury of discarding irrelevant detail in the moment. I don't know what's relevant, and there's not enough room for a whole other mind in mine, so I only get an impression. Some people who are either very disciplined or gifted are able to put up a guard. The better the guard, the more they look like their photograph. Yours is extraordinary."

"If that is the case, how would you know I was there, behind you? I know you didn't hear me."

"You reacted a little, for some reason. Broke through."

"Hm. Why did that... someone disturb you?"

"It was... I don't know. I've never had that happen before."

"It hurt?"

"Yes, I suppose so. So it's the same person?"

The man leaned forward in his chair and lowered his guard. Her eyes flickered then widened.

It was absolutely huge. There was a loud, confusing boom like the sound of the sea, a white noise that drowned out everything. It was unrelenting, unwavering and pounded against her, like merciless water. She felt herself start to shiver.

His eyes narrowed a little when he saw it, both surprised and satisfied. She had told the truth.

A quiet, slow, deliberate voice echoed in every part of her mind.

"I think you misunderstand. I know where you live. I know who your friends are. I know where you go to school. I know your age and birthdate. I know your social status and the approximate income of your household. I know the state of your health and of your virginity, and how to use those to my advantage. When you leave, you will have absolutely no memory of what happened here. The less you cooperate, the less you will remember of what happened, and possibly of anything else that matters to you. You are in no position to demand answers, Hanajima Saki."

Hana fought through the numbness to breathe.

"Don't struggle, Saki. There's a good reason I keep my guard up. There's more. I will hurt you if I have to."

The man's eyes bored into her, looking for any sign she would break or hesitate. The girl was very close.

Hana looked for any coherent thing the dempa told her. She found it.

Hana let out a jerking breath she meant to be a laugh, and said "I hate subtext."

She sprang forward, pressing her lips against his. He gasped- and leaned forward into it.

Hana grabbed his hand and put it over her own eyes. She was running on pure adrenaline, and the dempa had taken over. She took a moment to think. Why was his hand there? It didn't matter, it worked.

He made some sort of connection, almost involuntarily, and the roar of pure weaponized presence quieted to something more familiar, but still nearly unbearably intense as his mind began to slip into hers. She panicked and pushed back into his, searching for anything she could control- and found it.

She could see herself, with his hand over her eyes. She felt his heart beat in his chest, and the sudden wave of nausea come over him just as he felt her taking over his body. She didn't let him move, didn't even let him breathe. She watched his mind until she saw what she was looking for.

When she found it, Hana removed her hand from his eyes, and let up a little. He gasped for air. The connection lingered, and she kept his muscles stiff as long as she could.

"Let me go."

Hana was so furious her face was numb. She wished she'd made him vomit.

"Hatori. I found your name, you asshole. You don't think I've had someone in my head before? Don't you ever do that to me again. I will kill you."

She had no idea if she could. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. He looked panicked, and she wanted to keep him that way.

"You're barely keeping it together. I could do worse than kill you. I bet I could break that guard of yours. I could make it so you'll never pass as normal."

She didn't know if she could. The conviction in her voice came from the sureness she would find a way to do it. She let him slip away.

Hatori jerked back into his chair. He clutched at his hand as if it were wounded.

"Would you like a cigarette?"

"Was that fun for you?" he said bitterly.

"To touch you or get inside your head?"

"Either."

She could have yelled at him. She'd never yelled at anyone in her life. She said, quietly "You're acting as if I had done something to you, Hatori. I stopped you."

Hatori found his lost stoicism.

"We are, I am afraid, at an impasse," he said. "I must find out what you know and, at the very least, take what you do know. I also need to know how you found out, and prevent repeat discovery. If I can't, you will be killed. That is the situation. I would greatly appreciate it if you would cooperate."

"You assaulted me to prevent me from telling people you're gifted?"

"No. Nobody can prove or disprove mind reading, nobody would believe you."

"So something that can be proven?"

He gritted his teeth. "I am trying to save your life, damn you."

"I'm supposed to thank you for not killing me?"

"I wouldn't be the one doing it, you idiot!"

"You still don't have the right. If you don't want to kill me, then don't. If you do, get it over with. Now, you will take me someplace to eat, then take me home."

"No."

"Then I walk out of here myself. I wonder how far I will get before I'm caught. You know what I can do if you touch me, and I will scream or make you scream until someone comes. How far do you think I'll get if I walk out by myself?"

She saw by his look, not far at all.

"I don't believe you'd do it."

"Do you want to gamble on whether you want me to live more than I do? We're going."

Hana waited by the door while he got his jacket.


	2. Impasse

Hana made Hatori march her through the compound to the gate. He stood there, watching her.

"Are you coming?"

"I already know where you're going."

"I doubt it. I'm hungry."

"Hungry?" He sounded incredulous.

Hana had weighed bolting and going home, but she believed him when he said he knew where she lived. It was more horrible at that moment to have him out of her sight.

"It'll look strange if you just go back, maybe."

He didn't buy it.

"Please."

He looked away. "Fine."

They walked a long time, silently. Over an hour. Neither of them wanted to say near the Souma's compound. Hatori pointed to a novelty restaurant silently, and she nodded. It was an American-style 1930s diner. The walls gleamed with cold steel, reflecting the warm yellow light from the scalloped lighting. There was great care taken in the overall design, preferring dynamic, mechanical shapes and high contrast to bright colors.

Hana pretended to read the menu to figure out what she wanted. Really, she was just reading the restaurant blurb and brand copyrights in the back and continued to think.

Unfortunately, the long walk hadn't cleared anything up for her. The absolute worst part is that the most useful aspect of her dempa, the ability to jolt people, required the ability to "see" them clearly with the dempa. Hatori was like looking at a mirage when they weren't touching. When they had, she could barely tell where he ended and she began. She'd probably hurt herself as badly as him. She'd do it if she had to, but doing it wouldn't put her at any particular advantage, and if he recovered first, a disadvantage.

The small print read "Charlie's: a Souma inc. Business."

_Damn._

She thought for a moment and recognized it as the same logo as on the building where Tohru worked. And on a brand of rice Hana's mom used. And a technology company that funded public access television was, as she recalled, also a 'Souma inc. Company.'

"What don't you own?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

Hatori stared at her over his glasses. He had been pretending to read the menu as well. His eyes flitted to the part of the menu she had been looking at.

"_I_ own hardly anything. As for the Soumas, I believe we have yet to go into oil, or diamond mining. However, those things are not practical within Japan. We own voting stock in almost every company worth having it in in this part of the world, and some controlling votes. Many we own outright."

"I have never heard of a Souma Conglomerate." she said.

"We aren't one. We're just a family who is extraordinarily successful at anything we want to do. It just makes it easier if our taxes are all on the same form. We didn't want to be big industry plutocrats, or have control over large parts of the economy, it just happened."

"How can it 'just happen?' That's ludicrous."

"A great aunt of mine wanted to make dolls. Couldn't work porcelain, but could make stone carvings, and casts. So, she looked into it, and it turned out plastic, new at the time, would work."

"You're rich off of toys?"

"No," he said. "The dolls were hideous. Couldn't paint them. But she'd researched and invested in a particular kind of plastic for them. Turned out to be very useful in the medical and oil drilling industry. Repeat stories like that several times. You might say we're... blessed."

"Mmmmm. So, why this place? No 'Charlie Souma' running around."

"No. A cousin of mine's mother is German, but spent quite a while in the United States. She complained she couldn't get a good hamburger. This was a gift to her."

Ahh. I didn't know anything about Momiji-kun's mother. He never mentioned her."

Hatori's gaze went sharp, "You know Momiji?"

"Yes."

Hatori sighed irritably and took out a cigarette case and lighter. He lit one and took a long drag before putting the case and lighter away into an inner jacket pocket.

She looked around. Hatori favored suits that looked like they came out of the late 1950s, since the fashions flattered tall and thin men. So there she was, in an expensive kimono with a man in a suit in a 1930s diner.

"I'm in the wrong movie."

"Ha." He massaged between his eyebrows with his thumb, cigarette smoldering in hand. The smoke caught the light. It looked like a dark ribbon in the still air, reaching to the low ceiling, then finally breaking the column and pooling in the recessed lighting.

"I ought to smoke," she said. Hatori looked for a second like he was going to give a lecture on the dangers of cigarettes, before he caught her gaze and followed the path of the smoke.

It was pretty. He wouldn't have noticed.

"Look... I have some idea what you're talking about most of the time. It's extremely aggravating to have to wait a few seconds for my brain to catch up. You don't have to speak in long formal speeches, just an obvious subject for your sentences would be very nice."

"You won't be putting up with it for long."

"That's the ticket. More like that, please. I'm not sure you know what you're saying half the time."

She glared at him. The corner of Hatori's mouth curled up. It was nearly three in the morning. He was a little punch drunk, and happy to score a little success after a night of unexpected failures.

Hana was calming down. He looked a little bit less monstrous now. Only tired and overworked. "How long have you been a doctor?"

"Slightly over a decade. Medical school right after highschool. I was shadowing doctors even in high school, so I was 'in practice' during that time, as well."

"Really? I thought you were older."

Hatori gave a bitter snort, smoke streaming out quickly. He exhaled the rest through his mouth before saying, "I get that a lot."

"No, you don't act it. Necessarily. So you are twenty-eight, then?"

"No."

"Hmmmm. Not twenty-eight? That's funny. Why did I think that?" She started counting on her fingers. "You're not... forty? No." She was genuinely confused. "Did something happen the year you were born? Was the year special?"

"Now why would you ask that?" Hatori said. It came out as a low whispery growl.

"That's what I'm asking you."

His expression became fixed, "I am thirty-two. It's all I'm saying."

"I'm twenty two."

"I know how old you are."

"One year older than Momiji-kun."

_That_ hit the mark.

Hatori knew, in theory, how old Momiji and Saki were in relation to one another. He hadn't made the connection. Momiji was toddling around when Hatori was in middle school. Hatori'd been signing report cards, bandaging scraped knees, and helping with kanji homework (Momiji's worst subject) when he was seriously pursing Kana.

The fact she was, therefore, as old as Yuki, Kyou and Tohru was also alarming. Those were _children,_ dammit.

The waitress padded up. "Hello. What would you like today, Ha-chan?"

"Coffee. Caffeinated today, I think. Chocolate milkshake for the girl."

The waitress glanced at Hana and gave him a mischievous smile. Hatori scowled back at her as she walked back to the counter.

"You two were awfully familiar." Saki was surprised at the coolness of her own tone.

"I should think so," He replied stiffly, "She's my aunt. Not a close one, but still. I hope I got you something you like. Some people don't like chocolate."

"I like chocolate fine. It is a little young for me, though. I haven't had one for a few years."

"Really? Momiji-"

"I'm not Momiji."

The waitress brought the coffee and milkshake around. Hatori downed his in a couple of gulps, like an oversized shot. After a few seconds of staring at her nephew's face, she got the message that now was _definitely_ not the time to be around, so she bustled off into the kitchen, and turned up the radio _loud._

It was an old song, in English. A man warbled cheerfully through the kitchen door, "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when..."

"You'll pee yourself if you chug coffee too fast," Hana said.

"It's a wartime song, you know."

Hana listened for a minute as she took a sip. Her English was rusty, but she caught the jist.

"I guess it's in that style."

"Yes. It's very happy. It's the kind of song they wrote when they didn't know if people would come back alive."

He swung his legs up onto the booth and ran his fingers through his hair, which was a little greasy.

"So she lies to herself?"

"No," Hatori said.

They both looked out the window. It was cloudy, but bright out. It drizzled in short, lazy periods, like the sky couldn't be bothered to just open and rain.

"I will have to erase your memory. Can't be avoided."

"What makes you think I'd let you?"

"Do you _want_ to remember me?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. There was a trace of self-loathing in his tone.

"Maybe I do."

"I..." he searched for a moment, for what little he'd seen about her in their exchange. "... I would understand. You wouldn't remember it, but someone would know exactly what it's like to be you. I promise."

"But I wouldn't be the same person, would I? I wouldn't know anyone understood me. The person I am now, even compared to an an hour ago would be-"

"- dead. I am a murderer. I know that. "

Hana paused.

"I promise, I'd take you with me. You know I can. I can't take your memory, but I bet I could take your sanity. Or worse."

"Then it's a stalemate."

He thought for some length.

"You could kill _me_." He tried joking.

"Do you want that?" she asked.

"...No. Do you?"

"No."

"OK." He sighed. "If I went to Akito and told him the situation, I'm not sure you'd live. This situation is messy and out of control, and I can't finesse it in this short period of time. I would be punished."

" Caged?" She looked distant.

"That's a good word. Yes." he said.

"Like an animal..."

"I would suggest you drop that chain of thought."

She came back into focus. "Mmmm. A compromise? Lock me up?"

"I... would hate to live that way. I wouldn't make you."

"What do you suggest?" she said.

"I will... erase only certain parts of your memory."

"And that is different how?"

"I could make this seem like a dream. I'd take details, like faces and names. You'd still have the jist of it."

"No."

"Why?"

"I want to remember your face."

"I cannot have you describe me to others."

"That's not why.. All I have who would understand this are my brother, and maybe Tohru-kun, and I think only she would believe me. Have you met her? She's like that."

Hatori ground his teeth. "OK. But I must ask for a few more things."

"Such as?"

"If you see me, _you don't know me._ Do you understand? Please, trust me, whatever I take, I am trying to save your life."

"OK. But let me move and think. If I panic, I might hurt you."

"This is going to be very difficult. I... have not done this before..."

"I will be gentile, dear."

Hatori pursed his lips, "That does _not_ help."

"Sorry. This has all been very... unreal. I'm still mad at you."

"Understandably."

"Mmm. I wish I didn't know you were telling me the truth. It's hard to... really know I'd do the same in your position. Be violent. It's really horrible, what having to keep a secret like that forces you to be."

"You don't keep your dempa a secret. Do you blame me for keeping mine?"

She thought about it. "That's... a hard question. Yes. I do. But you are... human. You fail. I've failed. I know what being forgiven for it has meant to me. I don't know if you're a good man. But... I..."

Hatori went ashen. He closed his eyes and muttered something she couldn't catch under his breath, before opening them again.

"I don't know how to say it," she said. "I'm still mad at you. But I think you're a good man."

"You're lying."

"No. I just don't know how to say it. I think the only thing I can do for us is give you the freedom to be one. I'm tired. I don't want to talk anymore. Time to say goodbye?"

He nodded. He stretched out his hand to cover her eyes. Hana stopped breathing to wait for the pressure on her face. She thought she could keep her eyes open, but she was wrong. She was afraid. She waited.

Hatori's beeper went off, and she opener her eyes. He hadn't touched her. Same song. Same hazy street lamp shining through the fog on the window. She wasn't sure if she'd remember it if he took anything, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't be wondering about it if he had. Hatori stood and started pulling on his coat.

"Did you...?" she said.

"No."

"Where are you-"

"I'm being called. Akito."

"Why didn't-"

"Shut. Up. Don't ask me that."

Hatori pulled out a pen and scribbled hastily on a napkin, then counted out the cost of coffee and the milkshake from his wallet, and put it on the table.

"Don't let my cousin put the expense on my tab. Make her take the cash and get a receipt. Insist. Say I walked out on you, if you have to."

"You are walking out." Hana said absently.

"The napkin. Next time."

Hana took it off the table and read it twice before looking up again. Hatori had left.

-"Outside Yushima Tenjin Shrine. This Friday, 5:30 in the morning."-

_Oh, _**_damn._**


	3. Fall Back

Hana walked briskly to the Yushima shrine. The red gate was visible long before she could see the tall man standing beside it. His coat was over his arm. He was very still, and his eyes were closed. He looked like he was asleep standing up.

"You're late. I was worried," he said.

"Worried?"

"Yes. Don't be late."

"I got here quickly, considering. The trains don't run this late. I had to find a hotel that lets women in."

He glanced down at her, "They have reputable ones around here?"

"No. Nor non reputable ones. I stayed at one of those love hotels."

His face tightened, and she felt a little flash as his guard faltered.

She fished a book out of her coat pocket. "I _read_."

"I assumed."

"Uo-chan's been arrested." Hana said.

"What?"

"Uo. My friend. Same day, it seems."

"I'm afraid you've lost me."

Hana shot him a Look before starting over, "There was a robbery at a store. Someone was killed. Uotani Arisa, my friend as well as Honda Tohru's, was first on the scene. She called the police. For some reason, yesterday they arrested _her._ Two days after the robbery and the same amount of time after the day we met. What happened?"

"Why would I know?"

"Well, you know my age, my birthdate, where I go to school, my friends, as well as my state of health and my virginity. I assume if you can use those last two against me, you could everything else."

"I had those things in a _file._ I barely rifled through it."

"I highly doubt anyone had my _virginity_ on file. You certainly had plenty of opportunity. What with dressing me and-"

"Hold on- one damned moment. Half of that was bluffing. Something I could plausibly know, or find out quickly. I checked to see if you had a stroke, but that's about as intimate as it got."

"'_Plausibly_ find out?'"

"I didn't say I had any intention of 'finding out.' I still don't, by the way."

"Oh really? What's the meaning of this place, then?"

"Meaning? It's a _shrine._"

"Don't you know anything?" she was getting angry. She never got angry. It pissed her off.

_This is really stupid._

"I think I know some things. I'm not drooling, so there's that. Look, I really-"

"Yushima. This is March. Plum Festival," She pointed at the gate, "Celebrated here mostly. Marks turning winter to spring, yes? _Symbolic._"

"Well, yes," Once again, she felt the flash. "you're right, I shouldn't have _made it spring_. How rude of me."

"Good Lord, you might as well be taking me out to a dinner of eggplant and oysters and mushrooms with a flute player. Under an umbrella. In the _rain._"

"_What?_ What in God's name are you talking about?"

"Well, they say cherries bloom young and wither fast, while plums flower when they are mature, and so they're a Good Match; plum blossoms _last longer._ More _endurance._"

"Who the hell says that?" He said, raising his voice.

"It's obvious. Look at old prints. Or anything."

"Prints? Wood block prints?" He calmed again. "Oh, God, you're in college. Look, not everything's _symbolic_. I know enough professors to know the world is much more convenient to teach if everything boils down to sex. Lightens the lesson plan. And for clarification, I gave you a checkup after you were cleaned up."

"_After?_"

"You want _before_? They cleaned you, I gave you a checkup, then you were dressed."

"Why'd you pick that one? It _smelled_ like your house." His house smelled like him, but she wasn't going to admit she'd noticed anything about how he smelled. He colored anyway.

"I damned well wouldn't have put you in that one if I had any other choice, but I don't keep women's clothes on hand just to have them!"

Hana had calmed down enough to know she'd stuck her foot in her mouth.

"Do you need it back?"

"No. It's probably better if I don't."

"...Whose was it?"

"Kana's. She wore it for festivals. She's… was my fiance."

"Oh."

They stood for a few moments, in silence. The sun was just over the horizon.

"You don't know anything about Uo." she said.

"No."

"You can't fix it?"

"Not if you want justice. Someone would know if I pulled strings, and they would think it was because she was involved."

They both looked down the street.

"Yeah. I see," Hana tucked her hands under her armpits.

"Cold?"

"Yes. Aren't you?"

"No."

She felt a a weight on her shoulders. Hatori had put his jacket around her.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to see you. Fairly regularly."

"Why?"

"The amount you know. You would have been watched in any case, if you'd forgotten. If I'm the one doing it, I have the option of how to report it. I've already told Akito I'd supervise your surveillance."

"You didn't say you'd do it yourself?"

"No."

"And you didn't tell them that I remember."

It wasn't a question, so he didn't answer.

"You're tired." He said after a few moments.

"Yes. Very."

"How do you sleep?" he said.

Hana glanced at him suspiciously. She hadn't said anything about her problem sleeping. But, Hana was too tired to lie, and answering with a question would mean she'd have to keep talking, which she didn't want to do.

"I have a hard time without my brother in the house. His presence helps, but I'm weaning myself off of it. I can't expect him to always be there, whatever he promises. He's young. With Uo gone… I don't have anyone."

"If it goes to trial, I'll get her a lawyer. From the sound of it, I don't think it will."

"That's too expensive."

Hatori grunted. They watched the sun rise higher for a while before he said, "My car. Get in."

"What?"

"Please get in. It's down the street a ways."

"... Fine."

They walked in the cold about a mile and a half. He was parked behind a nice restaurant; another Souma property. The car faced a brick wall. It shared the small space with another car, probably belonging to the owner of the restaurant. Most business owners lived above their stores.

Hana made her way toward the left side of the car.

"Passenger seat on the right," she heard him say behind her. The drivers side was next to a brick wall, and she had very little room on either side of her. The front of the car was too close to another wall to go that way around.

She turned, ready to run into him to get to the other side if she had to. She was too tired to tell him to move. She'd bump into him for all she cared.

He hadn't entered the narrow space, and was standing a little bit away from the back of the car. As she approached, Hatori took a small step back, shoulders tensing to move quickly. She froze in place and examined him for a second, before continuing around.

She supposed he was still shaken after their violent exchange. She didn't mind. Hatori unlocked the car and they got in.

It smelled like his cigarettes, but also him. His skin, his soap and whatever he washed his hair with. She took his coat off her shoulders so she could buckle in before she noticed Hatori was taking the belt off his waist.

"What in all the Hells do you think you're doing?" she said, not quite ready to bolt out the door. She clutched the handle, not willing to take any chances.

To her bewilderment he held the belt out to her, wrists together.

"You need to sleep, right?" he said, "You don't trust me. I'd make a lot of noise getting free, and I'd need my hands to erase your memory. I'm not your brother, but I can be present. This seems like a solution."

"If I didn't, would I still remember you when I woke up?"

He didn't answer. She took the belt.

The belt was of plain, dark leather, thick and heavy. Sturdy. She took it from him, reaching for it warily. Hana threaded the end through the buckle and tightened it around him, enough so he couldn't move, but not so his blood was cut off.

Hatori's skin was slightly rough above the wrist, but below was smooth. His fingers and hands looked long because of his large, slender frame.

There was a series of holes in the belt, right where she needed them to be to tie his hands together, hidden by a strip of leather. The flap had just looked like a reinforcement for the buckle from the front. She had no idea until she'd tightened it.

Hana fervently didn't want to know what the holes were for.

Well, she knew what they were _for._ More precisely, she didn't want to know under what circumstances he used them.

_Or why he wore it today. Oh, God…._

She buckled the belt around his wrists. Hana had to resist the temptation to go one hole too tight.

The one she put it through was a worn. The leather there was almost torn, it was so beaten up. Almost all the others had some wear, including the smallest one, large enough only for small children. She suppressed a shudder.

"I always wear it, not just today. Sometimes, people find out."

Hatori tested the strength of his bonds, his sharply jerking his arms apart a coupe of times. It shifted a little, but didn't loosen. His wrists were red where the belt had cut into him.

He slumped back onto his seat and stared at the ceiling of the car. It was covered red carpeting that had darkened with years of smoking. Perhaps it was just the years that did it. Hatori didn't smoke in his car very often, unless it was on long trips.

_Not often at all. Not for years. Since Kana._ He glanced at Saki, then back up at the ceiling.

Hana felt another short pang from Hatori. Regret, or something like it. She turned away and covered herself with his jacket. It was a little scratchy, where the non-lined fabric of his the collar rubbed against her chin. As she started to drift off, she felt a sort of tingly warmth around her. He'd let his guard down a little. He was near sleep himself, and letting thoughtless nostalgia wash over him.

_Not at all like Megumi._

Megumi meant well, but he worked blind. He didn't know what kind of presence was comforting.

_Hatori does._

It was an odd thought to have. Hana would have dwelled on it further, but sleep overtook her.  
-

Hana gasped and arched forward as her eyes snapped open. She panted to catch her breath.

"Nnnngk."

"Bad dream?"

Hana blinked, trying to remember where she was, still breathing hard. She saw she was in an oldish car, and on the wrong side. That, and there was a talking corpse in the car. Nothing alive was like that, but at the same time she KNEW there was someone, and for a moment, she knew she still had to be asleep.

_Car. Hatori..._ Hana's brain filled in the minor details of her entire life.

"Nnnnnnn." She couldn't decide if it was bad.

When she had enough use of her brain to think, she was fairly sure it was Hatori she'd been in the dream. It was the same as the flashes she kept having, only longer and vivid.

But not the present day. The hair was short, in the dream, or at least not restricting the view.

When she had seen the eye peak from behind his hair in real life, it hadn't seemed the same as the other. It didn't wander.

"What's wrong with your eye? Is it blind?"

"No. Almost. I can get by with my glasses, when I need both."

She could see through both eyes, in the dream. Clear, and no glasses.

_A memory?_

"How did you lose your sight?"

"It was injured."

"Did someone hurt it?"

"It was injured," he repeated flatly.

No more information was forthcoming.

"Kana... did you have both with her?"

"Yes."

_So, it was Kana in the dream. He keeps remembering his old fiance. When I was in the kimono, and every so often again._

It wasn't even a sex dream. It was just a series of sweet little moments. Walks, dinners. OK, there was some sexual stuff in there too. She could smell her perfume.

But in the end, something horrible had happened. Her eye ached.

The images and feelings seemed at odds with her impression of Hatori. Hatori didn't come across as affectionate. Or any of that other stuff.

"You loved her?" Hana said.

"Yes. Very much."

"Will she come back?"

He shook his head, "She's married. Has kids, now. Two boys. She's very happy, I hear. She looks it."

"Does she remember you?"

Hatori didn't say anything.

It was bright out and a little hot inside the car. She'd bucked off his jacket, and she couldn't see where it was.

_it's vanished... wait. No._

She found it bunched under her. She'd gotten used to the smell.

"... What time is it?"

"About a quarter to one, I think. Can't look at my watch."

She pulled out her cel phone. Twelve forty-seven. Almost a full night's sleep. Hana hadn't gotten six full hours in months. Somehow it made her more tired. She looked back at Hatori.

He hadn't looked at her yet, nor said much. His wrists were still bound.

_Of course the belt's still there. I didn't take it off._

She'd been awake for at least five minutes, and he hadn't asked to be untied. She reached over and pulled the long end of the belt to undo the buckle.

He hardly seemed to be real in normal circumstances. As her fingers wedged under the leather to remove it, he was there again. He wasn't focused on her, so it wasn't as bad.

She still shivered. There was no way to describe it. It was like being exposed to an intense temperature, but if you asked 'hot or cold?' she couldn't have told you.

She had it off, and her fingers left his wrists. He disappeared again.

She looked at his wrists. It hadn't been too tight, but the red impression from the belt was still there. His sweat had irritated the skin under the leather. Hatori's head lolled down to look at her, his eyes drooping with fatigue. He didn't seem any more tired. It just looked like he was showing it.

"I've got a safe-house. I should show you where it is," he said.

"Safe-house?"

"Yeah. It's a little apartment I keep. The family doesn't know about it."

"So, I'm going to live in a dungeon?"

"No. I'm hiding you, not holing you up."

"Oh," she said.

Hatori took his keys and glasses out of his pocket before starting the car.

The safe house wasn't really a house, but a studio apartment. Hana'd lived in one just a little bigger with her family until Megumi was a year old. Megumi definitely owed his existence to a love hotel.

The safe-house was luxurious compared to that place despite being smaller. The furniture was new and well made, and there was a full bath.

Hatori hung up his jacket, then to her surprise, helped her take her coat off. She'd only ever seen that in movies.

There were a few pairs of pants, and dress shirts hanging up in the closet. Two bedrolls were on the floor, one of them newer than the other.

Like most apartments, the heat was on very low. Hana walked across the room and switched on the kotatsu before slipped under the cover. There was a cushion already there, and another on the adjacent side of the table.

A tinkling in the kitchen made Hana look up. Hatori had taken down a couple of glasses. The kitchen sink gurgled in protest before oozing a stream of orangey water. He let it run clear before rinsing the dust out of the glasses.

The kitchen was only a kitchen by technicality. There was a hot plate and a rice maker, but no oven. There was a washer under the counter.

"I don't use this place much. I change locations every few years. Not comfortable for more than one to live in, but good enough to regroup in."

"Regroup?"

"Yes. Desk's next to the closet. Pens and things if you need them."

Hana looked at the opposite wall. There was an office style chair pushed against it, but no obvious desk.

"Where?"

"It pulls down."

Hana might have called feeling the need get a a secret one room apartment paranoid in anyone else. However, Hana wondered how much effort had gone into finding a place the Souma's didn't know about.

It suddenly occurred to her literally nobody knew where she was or how to find her. He may have let her tie him up, but...

Hatori plopped down next to her and set down the glasses. A bottle of smokey orange liquid was under an arm, along with a bottle of water and a red package. The glasses on the table already had water in them.

"What's that?"

Instead of answering, he set down the package and the bottle.

"Cookies."

"Yep. Ginger snaps." he said.

"With whiskey."

He glanced at her, "Yes. You don't like it?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a drink since I turned twenty."

"Oh? What happened?"

"Nothing. I had a drink to celebrate. I haven't since."

"Mmm. I haven't in a while either. Not good to drink alone. Of course, it's probably not good to drink with _my_ friends wither."

He poured about two centimeters into each tumbler.

Hana expected him to down it, but he sat and smelled it for a few moments before sipping it slowly.

Hana wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't a good way to get drunk if he kept that pace. She wouldn't even get drunk if she drank that slow.

She finally gave in and had a sip. It was not at all unpleasant, just very strong.

A cookie still seemed odd. But "what the hell" seemed to be the theme of the moment. She took a bite. The ginger in the cookie bit back.

She had to reach for the water bottle. Washing the remaining alcohol and chocolate off her tongue brag a little relief. She gulped air as passionately as she did the water.

"H-how can you...?" Hana managed.

"There's a difference between using a feather and using the whole chicken," he said.

"Nnn?"

"Less whiskey and smaller bites, swallowed faster. I would wait a little, if I were you."

"Why?"

"You're bright red, Saki-kun." He took another bite and sip.

_Saki-kun?_ she thought.

He'd never called her by name. Or at least, not in a circumstance where a name was at all nice.

She bored into him with a stare. The next mouthful he took was swallowed too fast when he noticed.

"Yes...?"

"You. You're gonna be Hato-san." She turned away as if a matter had been settled.

"_What?_"

"Well, Kyoko-san would've certainly called you Hato-san. Or Hato-kun, but you're much too serious for that. I don't think I can get away with it."

Hana tried the chocolate chip cookie and whiskey experiment again, with better results. She didn't look at him.

"Ahhn. I see. What if I had protested what she called me?"

"Hmmm. That's different."

"Mmm?"

"You especially would have been called it. She would have found it funny."

"And who is this woman, now?"

"Tohru-kun's mother. She was the best woman ever. She was nice to me."

He looked for any signs she was making fun of him, but she was sincere. Hana always exuded honesty, but he hadn't seen much sincerity there before.

"Ahh... I doubt it fits," his tone became grave to match hers.

"If it's better, 'Hana-chan' doesn't fit me, either, but it's what I've been called for a long while."

"Ahh... umm... you want to be called 'Hana-chan?'"

She glanced over at him. He was more uncomfortable with that than he was being called 'Hato.' Since she didn't imagine being called 'Dove' on a regular basis was particularly appealing to him, there had to be something special about calling her 'Flower.'

_Hana may be too much like Kana._

"When did you meet her? Kana."

"It was a bright cold day in April."

Whatever else he was going to say was bitten off there, and the pang returned, stronger. The silence that stretched out so thin it could have torn with the strain.

"I can be 'Saki,' if you prefer. Either way," she said finally.

"Hnnn... I suppose I can handle being 'Hato,' then."

"Fine."

Hatori's glass had been fully drained, three times and he poured himself a little more. Hana hadn't had more than a few sips.

"It's nice," he said.

"What is?"

"No animals."

"...Oh?" she said.

He didn't sound drunk, but he was definitely not sober. He'd gone fuzzy. If she concentrated, he was sort of 'visible.'

"Shigure, he's fine. You can hardly tell. He just chews on stuff. Ayame can hold is liquor, but get him too drunk and he gets too cold or too hot. He's a snake. It's best not to get drunk in public."

"'S _outside._"

"That is the general meaning of 'in public.'"

Hatori shook his head.

"We were seventeen before we figured out it's not good to get drunk in public. Ayame and Shigure got in some trouble. Messy cleanup."

"Seventeen? I would imagine so."

"Eh? What about seventeen?" he asked.

"It's underage."

"Yes. I know. Police weren't involved."

It was like explaining to someone who didn't live in the same universe. He didn't even know the basic stuff. She knew many of the niceties in the world were faked, so it seemed pointless to fake them herself, but at least she knew they existed.

"It isn't done." He still didn't get it. "Even yankees don't drink underage."

His eyebrows rose.

"Really? Hmm. I didn't know I was a rebel outside too. Wasn't even trying." he sounded mildly pleased with himself, although it might have been self parody.

"Rebel?"

Quickly running a hooked digit down the length of his chest, he pantomimed tugging a suit collar straight. He then pulled at the invisible cuffs, staring ahead, like there was a mirror in front of him. Hana almost laughed, it was so convincing. He remembered himself, then continued.

"Dressing like some newfangled foreigner isn't a good thing."

"You just dress like a doctor. There's nothing wrong with dressing normally. You can't wear yukatas all the time."

"I always wear this, not just work. Uniform is O. K. It's okay if _you_ wear it. You _are_ one."

"Where are _you_ from, mister?"

"Well, you've talked to Momicchi, Yuki, Kyon, Haru, right?"

"Yeah."

"Momicchi, he's a 'foreigner,' yes? No matter what, he isn't really Japanese."

"...No."

"Well, he's the best at it, among _us_. Being with other types of foreigners. Tell me, before Honda-kun went to live with Yuki, did anyone talk to him? Would anyone have talked to Haru? Not just 'Hi, how are you, how is class?' but actually got to know him?"

"What about Kyou-kun?"

"What 'bout him? He's not the same, obviously."

He rested his arms on the kotatsu, one over the other. The hand belonging to the bottom one held the glass.

"It'll be hard to drink the rest, like that," she said.

"Mn. I say too much, I think."

"No. Not more than most. Pretty quiet, compared to Uo-chan and Tohru-kun"

"'M done, I think," Hatori leaned forward and rested his chin on his arms.

Hana's glass was empty. His had a little left, a mouthful.

"No use letting it go to waste."

She reached across the table and lifted it away from his loose fingers.

"Saki-kun... you want that?"

She shrugged, "It tastes good," she drank the rest, then met his eyes and swallowed involuntarily.

"The whiskey does," she coughed.

He closed his eyes and nodded, "'Course. The whiskey. I know."

Hana felt herself turn red.

"Hold on. Don't- Hey. Hello? Hato-san? Oh..."

He'd fallen asleep. Even with his features relaxed, he frowned faintly. Perhaps he didn't really frown. A small series of lines at the corners of his mouth, and a heavy crease between his eyebrows remained there.

A soft, cool hiss filled the room. It was Hatori, she realized. Everyone changed a little in their sleep, but he was a lot different.

She remembered her visit to Shigure's house, and snapping awake as each of the male members of the house fell asleep. It was not a happy family awake.

Asleep, they were lovely, Hatori included. Almost simple in their energies. She mistrusted them, until that point.

She wasn't going to make her judgment that quickly, with Hatori. She'd seen what he was capable of.

In truth, Hana was also tired. She wanted to look around some, though.

The refrigerator was empty, but all the cabinets under the sink were filled with dried and canned goods. Rice, noodles, beans, pickles, and a couple of very large jugs of water. There were at least two of everything personal, some of which he'd just bought.

_This ought to be creepy. Going to the length of having a sort of bomb shelter, then equipping it specifically for me as well is worse than simple paranoia._

It wasn't like there was an actual conspiracy out there. If every business transaction left some information lying around, it wouldn't be too hard to keep track of her. The truth was, unless it was worth the effort, it would be stupid to keep track of everyone the Soumas bought and sold from.

It was that he thought she was worth the effort to hide that bothered her. Worse, she realized, she couldn't talk to anyone about this. Uo was occupied. Tohru still lived with the Soumas, she might be in a worse situation than Hana was if she found out something was up. Her brother was too young.

Back in the main room, she felt an urge to look at the desk. There was a latch at the top that she turned. It banged as it fell open and smacked against the bottom of the fixture.

Hatori groaned and shifted, so his head rested on an ear. He didn't wake up.

Behind the desk hid a group of small drawers and shelves, along with slots for stationary.

The bathroom had the only window in the apartment, positioned so you could look outside during a bath. You could only see the tops of trees.

Two towels hung on separate hooks by the door. One would be hers, the other, Hatori's.

"Which towel?"

Both were white. Neither had any obvious signs of use, and were folded the same. She thought of one way she could tell the difference.

She smelled one, and, fortunately, guessed right. Just the smell of laundry in the cloth. That was it. Nothing else. Nope.

_Ought to make sure. No mistakes._

The other one was _definitely_ Hatori's, not yet washed. Tobacco, soap and light sweat.

_I have established that this is Hatori's. No further establishing is needed._

"Saki-kun's _drunk._" she scolded herself, "Go to sleep."

She smoothed out the towel before going back out to the main room.

She found pillows wrapped inside the futons.


	4. Venture

Hatori woke up. Hangovers, for him, were rare, and most were indistinguishable from the permanent headache he already had. He tended to wake quickly, but liked sit there for a moment, comfortably feeling the minutes pass.

There was rarely time for that.

Muscles in his ribs and back complained of the position he was in. They would complain more if he sat up, he knew. Falling asleep leaning forward at a dinner table was new to him, and he found, slightly more painful than falling asleep at a desk. Being bent in half at the waist would never be a popular sleeping position among the non-masochistic.

When he shifted in preparation to sit up, the movement made him notice something unusual. Something was pressed against the side of his leg.

It was too hard to tell how warm it was through wool pants, but for a body, it wasn't quite right. Relieved, he sat up and looked.

It was Saki, but way too soft. She was faced away from him, mostly under the table cover.

People were, and are still made out of muscle, bones and fat, all of which were firmer than what was pressed against his leg. He dared not feel around because of propriety, nor move for fear of starting her. There could've been an accident.

He carefully tried to position himself to take a look, a task not made easy by his bad eye. Twisting his body in an unnatural and painful position finally gave him an adequate view.

A pillow, peaking out from under the cover, had been wedged between them.

_How would she know to do that_

He was thirsty. The water bottle on the table taunted him, as did the dancing pink thing on the label. Whatever it was had huge eyes. He thought it might be a cucumber, as it was shaped that way. What the thing had to do with why he ought to buy that type of water escaped him.

Saki wasn't bothered by the whole indirect kiss thing, and he hadn't been when he was younger. Kana changed that. It meant a lot more after being an expression of affection he'd actually used and looked forward to in the past.

But he was thirsty, and it was the only bottle of water in the apartment.

He grabbed it downed a few gulps, and felt a great deal better. He wasn't going to give in to silliness.

That and his throat wasn't scratchy anymore. That had been the goal all along. Of course.

Hatori never blacked out, although he understood others did sometimes. He remembered what he said, most of which stupid, and he remembered falling asleep.

The connivence of being drunk was that he could say whatever he wanted, and fill whatever immediate need he had. When Hatori became drunk to the point where he'd do that, the first thing he did those days was always to go to sleep.

A good thing, because what he would say wouldn't have been prudent, and any secondary wants would have been Trouble.

He glanced down at her again.

Saki's hair covered her face like a veil. Ayame always complained when he didn't have time to put it up before bed. Said it itched.

_It can't be comfortable for her_.

He reached over and very carefully moved a finger under a strand to pull it back.

He always imagined women's hair as soft. That it would run like silk through his fingers, or something like that.

Saki's hair was amazingly not soft. It was thick, rough, and easy to for his fingers to get stuck in, despite the fact it wasn't tangled. He wasn't exactly disappointed. Fact was, he wasn't going to feel most hair, so the hair he wasn't going to feel might as well be soft, dammit.

Her right hand was up by her face. She sucked on a knuckle, in her sleep. She'd done it in the car, too. It was pressed against her lips, which were slightly parted. He paused and replayed his recollection of her hands. He had seen she'd had a callous there, but hadn't noted it before. She did it regularly.

Shigure called girls who did those sorts of things 'kittenish.' Kyou, while being a Cat, didn't fit that description. It had to do with wearing frilly things, liking chocolate, and touching or moving their lips when they were nervous. 'Comfort-seeking' was the most polite way he could put it.

Shigure set up Hatori with a girl like that, at fifteen. It was an interesting experience. His first, in fact. The... level of affection wanted and therefore, given was what Shigure was getting to, he'd found out. It had nothing to do with being or not being a 'slut,' or outgoing, or unintelligent, just that they were very... affectionate. Just in general.

Hatori had to go back for another pass to get the rest of the hair out of the way. The pad of his thumb accidentally brushed against her jaw line and she made a small noise, pressing into his fingers as he withdrew them

_It's NOT personal. It most likely has nothing to do with... anything. God, what in hell am I doing_

He needed to use the toilet anyway, so he definitely wasn't fleeing. Very carefully, to avoid waking her or moving so he'd transform, he slid out from under the table.

While he shook his hands off in the sink, he thought washing all over was probably a good idea as well, and so walked to the bathroom.

On one wall, there was a panel that pulled up and hooked to a nail. The backside was a mirror, and had the soap and such on shelves behind it. No sink; they'd have to use the kitchen for that.

He was fairly sure the kinds of razors, shampoo, and soap he used would not be adequate for a young Lady.

How am I going to ask her to get her own... female supplies? It'd be wrong to get them myself, and uncomfortable to ask... And listing brands she can't use in an emergency will not be fun.

He disrobed and put the clothes inside the compartment, then pulled the mirror back down. It wasn't what the shelf was for, but he wasn't going to get undressed in the same room as Saki for the sake of neatness, curtain or no. It was one silliness he couldn't bring himself to overcome.

The bath wasn't full, so he removed the cover, turned opened the tap (cold only) and switched on the heater.

Kneeling on the floor in front of the showerhead, he turned the water on long enough to wet himself. He panted from the cold before lathering up his hair, then everything else. Hatori was quick about it.

During the late spring and most of autumn, it wasn't too cold to take a couple extra minutes, and summer he would sit in front of the showerhead for a long time, skipping the bath entirely. Early March was not the time to douse oneself in cold water and sit in the unheated air.

Overall, he preferred cooler temperatures He'd feel like he was boiling in anything over room temperature as a seahorse.

He stood and rinsed off, then washed the residue down the drain. Before getting into the tub, he took out a washcloth and dampened it. As he lowered himself into the water, he groaned in contentment. It wasn't hot enough to need the cloth yet.

_Lord, this feels good_.

He stayed for ten minutes, before the guilt of having Saki wake up alone hit him. He hadn't even done anything to keep her feeling safe.

"Dammit."

He took the cloth off his head and got out of the tub, hesitating over weather to drain it or not. He decided to leave it, and put the cover back on. He switched the heater off, though.

He took his towel off the hook and rubbed his chest dry, his hair having stopped dripping in the tub. He was down to the backs of his legs before he noticed something. Chin to his chest, he pinched a little at his lower stomach.

After a few tries, a thick black hair, a couple of feet in length rested between his fingers. Upon examination, the towel hid two more. One was on the back of his neck, two more on his leg.

_There was a Saki in my towel. Maybe._

He dried his feet and got dressed. No hair on his pants or sleeves.

_Odd. Should be some if they came from earlier._

He made use of a comb, and then walked back out to the main room.

Various things were in minor disarray. Most of the drawers required firm closing, or they'd drift open again. Almost every drawer in the apartment was ajar.

He went around closing drawers and folding the futons again. She'd attempted to, but there seemed to be some confusion on what constituted a corner, never mind on how to match them up. It was a mystery how she got the futons rolled at all.

"Saki-kun was drunk."

He tried to piece together what order she did things in. It was kind of a futile effort, but it was safe to assume the further along she went, the less controlled she was.

Bedrolls last, most likely. I would have found her asleep on the bathroom floor if she were less rational.

If he followed that logic, whatever happened to his towel was more rational than being unable to fold something and falling asleep next to him, but less than just not noticing a drawer was still open.

_But not so undisciplined as to not get a pillow first._

He firmly turned to the next task.

"Somebody's been looking through my desk," he said in a self-consciously grouchy voice. Seeing what she did while he was out was easier if he took it as mildly amusing.

Saki hadn't woken up yet. It wasn't a good idea to stay too long, but if she was tired enough to fall asleep there, he was sure she had to be exhausted.

_I have some paperwork to do. Where it's done won't matter._

He had to do a 'report,' to go on file somewhere and not be read. It still had to be plausible as possible.

Akito had washed his hands of the matter. As soon as he'd seen Saki, he'd freaked out. Akito was extremely paranoid, but if he didn't want to hear about a subject, it was immediately taboo. Saki, unless Akito brought her up, was off limits as a topic.

Short term, it was a blessing. Long term, it was very bad.

Hana woke as she turned onto her back. Her head protested any effort to unravel the painful knot of memory. It was there, but would have to wait until she felt nicer. It would most likely come if she needed it. Hana rarely had anything until she needed it.

She had gotten pretty good at improvising her way out of bad situations. No knight in shining armor to save Hana. If one showed up, he'd probably only live long enough to annoy the dragon and leave her with his charred sword. While appropriately phallic, it still meant if she wanted company, the dragon would have to be it.

_Damn dragons._

"'Morning."

"Eh?"

"Good morning, Saki-kun."

She looked up. The upside-down figure of Hatori was sitting at the desk, dashing of notes on thick stationary.

"It's morning?"

"Yes. About seven. Saturday."

"Saturday? Nnnn... I missed class yesterday..."

"Oh dear." He glanced back at her, "What can I do?"

"You could break my legs. I'd have a good excuse then."

"I apologize."

"Not your problem, Hato-san."

The corners of his mouth twitched inwards, and he faced his paperwork again.

_He didn't expect me to remember that._

"The bath's full, if you want it. Clean towel on the right, soap behind a panel on the wall."

She sat up.

"I'm not on my side of the table."

"You weren't when I woke up, either."

"Yes."

He swiveled the chair towards her. Glancing over his shoulder was probably awkward. Hatori's right eye was closer to the door than the table, so if he really needed to see her, and not just be polite, he had face her.

"So, you remember last night?"

"Yes."

"You aren't acting like you do."

"How would I act differently?"

Hatori didn't answer.

Hana tried to think of a way to rephrase, "If you had done the equivalent, how would you act?"

"I would lie, or avoid the topic."

"I ought to be ashamed?" she asked.

"No."

"Then why is there a problem?"

It was Hatori's turn to rephrase, "It was obvious what happened."

She frowned. "We didn't. I'm sure."

He looked aghast. "No. You just rifled through everything."

"Oh. That."

"Are you disoriented?"

"Yes. Very."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten you drunk."

"That's not it at all. It's you. The dempa tells me a lot. I always know what to do and say, even if I don't know why. I don't know what to do."

"Oh."

The plastic supporting the back of the chair squeaked as he slouched so that he could put his head on the back of his chair. He'd missed a few minute spots the lat time he shaved, leaving small, dark hairs on the underside of his jaw, just visible from her distance.

"I have no appointments today, and little else to do. I am very poor company," he said.

"Oh?"

"I am sure you have things you like to do."

Hana didn't know why he was so sure about that. What Hana wanted most of the time was to be alone, away from people's intrusive whims. Hatori barely was there as far as the dempa was concerned, but far from being less frustrating, he was more. She was having to rely entirely on social cues, which frequently lied, she knew.

But she could talk to him.

"What does Hato-san do outside?"

"I... don't go outside much. Not unless I have an excuse."

Hana looked around. The apartment had no windows or balcony, like most apartments that size did. It had no radio, and no television. There were no decorations of any kind, like the lacquered landscapes on the doors of the closets in his quarters. The air was stale, and the florescent lights shone bright and unnatural.

She would have trouble staying there long. It wasn't designed for someone who liked solitude.

She knew he liked one thing. However, she didn't want to confuse the situation.

"When did you first go to the Plum Festival?"

He lifted his head up to look at her.

"Middle school. I was thirteen. Why?"

Hana relaxed, "I am overdue then."

"You've never been?"

"No."

"I should say. How soon will you be ready?"

Hana looked down at her skirt and blouse.

"I need to bathe, but after that, I can go. Is there any here rope?"

"Rope?" a muscle at the corner of his mouth jumped.

Hana pulled the bottom of her blouse tight and then let go. The wrinkles sprang back.

"Bath. Hot water makes steam."

"Clothesline is above the washer," he said.

She glared at him as she stood and walked over to get it, and continued to as she slid the door closed.

He was almost pleasant for a moment. What the hell is wrong with this guy?

After Saki closed the door, Hatori removed his glasses and rubbed the heals of his palms into his eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered.

They left the safe house, both grouchy.

"Why aren't we going by train?"

"Because I don't like the train."

Saki looked skeptical. He didn't know what there was to be skeptical about.

"Is it safe for you to drive all the time?"

"I rarely do at night. I can see fine." That time he deliberately misinterpreted.

All relationships are based in honesty, he'd heard. He believed instead that they were based in "good faith," as the contract lawyers put it. People lie all the time, feign interest, tell their wives they're the prettiest woman they'd been with. There was a difference between lying and deceiving someone. Saki'd said something while he was thinking.

"What?"

"If you don't want to answer, just say so."

He didn't want to answer, but he still would.

"I didn't hear the question."

"... I said 'It's strange how you always have a space somewhere.' You don't have to look for parking."

"I suppose it is."

He flipped on the turn signal, and turned his head so he could look at his side view mirror. He backed into the space and shut off his car.

"Does your whole family have this privilege?"

"You think we do something as petty as make sure I have a parking space?"

She stared at him. She didn't blink nearly enough. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Yes. I think if it meant they knew where you were and you knew it. Would that be worth the effort to them?"

He took a moment to relax. He turned into a seahorse, he supposed that wasn't any less weird.

"No. I'm the only one with a car, that I know of."

"Shigure-san has one."

"Shigure has a toy he never plays with. Nobody makes arrangements for him."

"Hmmm."

There was no way she was satisfied with his answer, but her headache was a little better. She stopped pestering him. They were almost directly across from the shrine.

The Family had a very specific way it worked- do what you're told, and your kids will get in nice schools, debts disappeared- nice things happened. They were getting enough in exchange to know that, whatever the reason was, nice things might go away if they asked questions like 'why?'

The road was thick with visitors. Past the arch, it cleared some. Hatori was still mindful of the sheer number of women. More than half were female, and most were young, and many were flighty- a quality he liked, but was forced to discourage. He scowled at them as they flitted past. They'd pause in mid smile and back out of his way.

Hana glanced up at him. If he was enjoying the temple, it wasn't apparent to her. She didn't really like crowds either, but he was terrified.

He barely glanced at the booths, and kept walking, pausing only to give stern looks. Everyone, consciously or unconsciously, stayed about a foot away from him, as if they believed he'd looked through them and found some dirty spot on their soul.

They found him more intimidating than her. That was new.

His knuckles were white, they were clenched so tightly. When he noticed her looking at them out of the corner of his eye, he shoved them in his pockets.

"Yes. I usually come on weekdays."

He scanned the crowd in vain for any way to get someplace out of the way.

If he were more inclined to panic, he'd have tried to jump the wall. That would have caused a scene.

They'd gone half way around the shrine, when he noticed an open bench. He sat and inhaled for the first time since he got there.

She sat next to him. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

He was out and out lying to her. He was terrified. Why?

_I can find out..._

Hana slipped out of her shoe, exposing a bare foot. She extended her leg and carefully moved the cuff of his pants up just enough to touch the bare skin.

Hatori and Saki both jumped, barking in surprise at the same time. Hana didn't even have time to feel anything before he'd startled, and her along with him.

Hana caught her breath first, and slipped her shoe back on.

"Why are you that scared?"

Hatori gave her an incredulous look, "Scared of what?"

"Do you not know, or are you faking not knowing?"

"I don't know what to say to that. If you could point me in the right direction, I'm sure I could give you a satisfactory answer. What do you think I'm scared of?" He glanced down at her foot. She blushed.

"I… don't know." He was going to pursue it, but Hana suddenly looked up. "There is a child."

He followed her gaze. There was, indeed, a child. A boy, a little older than a toddler, was looking up through the indifferent passers-by.

"How long has he been there?"

"A few seconds. He is lost and he knows it. No one is looking for him."

"How can you tell?"

"Someone would be panicking."

He wondered for a moment how she would know no one was panicking, and then remembered the dempa thing. He'd never seen her use it on other people.

"Why can't you just tell who's the mother?"

"Even f I could, explaining to a complete stranger how I knew would get me committed."

He glared over at her.

"What?" she said.

She contemplated zapping him before remembering she'd have to touch him to do it.

Hatori took a deep breath and stood. He walked, very carefully through the crowd, and came up behind the boy. She saw him force his shoulders to relax, kneel and tap the child on the shoulder. The toddler turned around, and Hatori said something. The boy nodded. The kid's sleeve got a new snail trail as he wiped his nose and tried not to cry. Hatori straightened and the boy grabbed two of the tall man's fingers. The pair walked back to the bench.

"You're taking him?"

"Taking?"

"His mother will worry."

"She'll worry more if he wanders off with no one to watch him."

Hatori sat and easily lifted the dark haired boy onto the bench next to him. He had red shirt and a cap on. He'd lost his jacket somewhere. The older man took off his coat and tucked it under the child's arms, leaving part of the kid's back exposed.

"Why not cover his arms, too?"

"His shirt is what they'll look for."

She glanced over at him. The little boy fidgeted and sucked on his own fingers.

"He's nervous."

"Shh. Hey, what's your name? Hatori is mine. That," he waved in her direction, "is Saki-chan."

"'Chan?'"

"What's he supposed to call you?" he said.

The boy looked over at her. She smiled, very quickly.

But it was real, and it totally changed her face. He knew she was young, but for the first time, she looked like she felt it.

Hatori looked at the boy, who slowly smiled back.

"...'m Kobo"

"No."

"Kobo-kun has a fine name." Hatori said, seriously. His slight frown intensified and he nodded in approval.

This was funny to the child, for some reason. He grinned up at Hatori. His nose dribbled, so the older man took out his package of tissues, and produced one. He wiped the area, then pressed the tissue against the kid's nose.

"Blow," he ordered.

Hana was slightly horrified. She supposed they couldn't take the kid to the bathroom, but it was still not good in public. The kid obeyed, and Hatori dropped the tissue in the adjacent wastebasket. The child and he exchanged smiles, Hatori's small, and the boy's blissfully happy.

Kobo was extremely happy, more than Hana would have expected. She looked closer at the boy's dempa.

_Oh._

Hatori bounced his knee lightly, and started chanting something under his breath while she was investigating.

"What is that?"

"Huh?"

"What are you saying?"

"Well, Momiji liked it... insisted on it, once in awhile. Not past ten years old, though."

"What is it?"

"It's German. Just a nursery rhyme."

"What, like Mother Goose?" she said.

"No, those are English. You know those?"

"I know. I remember a few I had to read, although I can't do them well."

"Hmm. Well, my German is poor."

"Overly?"

"Incoherence is perhaps too excited. But he is a very excitable young man."

Saki was thinking. She flashed yet another smile at Kobo. She started speaking, quietly, in mediocre English to the boy:

"There was a crooked man

Who walked a crooked mile

He found a crooked sixpence

against a crooked stile

be bought a crooked cat,

who caught a crooked mouse

and they all lived together

in a crooked little house."

Hatori snorted.

"What? I didn't do well in English."

"No, you did fine. I think I know that guy."

"Birds of a feather flock together,

And so will pigs and swine;

Rats and mice will have their choice,

And so will I have mine."

"I don't know any more." she said. Something about how she said it felt strange to Hatori.

"Just a poem."

"It isn't right to say those things in mixed company."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I'm just not comfortable reciting poetry in another language.

"We could try Japanese. Do you know any from uta-garuta?"

"Ugh. That's so cheezy."

They were referring to a matching game. Someone would recite the first two lines of a poem, and then everyone would scramble to find the card they thought had the last two lines.

"I'll have you know I'm very good at it. I have a few memorized."

"Of course you do. I don't remember the first half of any."

"Well, pick a number. I might know it. Actually, knowing you, I probably will know it."

"OK." she seemed to like the idea. "Um… forty."

"Ohho."

"What?"

"Not in mixed company."

"What? No, tell me."

"But your virgin ears."

"I meant the kid."

"Kobo-kun has been asleep for five minutes."

Hana blinked. She'd been distracted...

"It's a coincidence." she said.

"Of course it is." His face was stone straight. "It's not like you're psychic."

Saki started tapping her heel on the stone walkway.

"Kobo-chan!"

Hatori and Hana's heads turned toward the sound. A woman, closer to Hatori's age than Hana's, pushed her way through the crowd. She was in all white. She ran up and grabbed the child so quickly that Hatori had no time to react.

The boy woke and started crying a little, until he was aware of who it was.

"Ouuuch! Mommy! Too tight!"

She held him out in front of her, "You...! Kobo-chan, you worried me! Don't you ever wander off! Not ever! What do you say, when you worry people?"

"Sorry, mommy."

"Ohh, you better be! Just tell me if you want to look around. I can get your uncle to take you walking." The woman looked up and bowed, "Thank you very much for taking care of my son."

"That's quite all right."

Hatori stiffened for a moment when he felt Saki's arm loop under his. He looked down. She was smiling sunnily at the woman.

"What can I do for you two? My shop is a little ways off... you both are welcome!"

"No, I cannot impo-"

"Don't be silly, Hatori. We would love to visit your shop. We will of course look in on you before we go."

"It's the bookshop. My husband's brother runs one of the food stands. You are both welcome anytime."

"It was such a pleasure sitting with Kobo-chan, we will be glad to repay you by visiting."

"Oh, no, I meant I was the one who should repay you!"

They talked back and forth, insisting who was going to repay whom for what by visiting the woman's shop. Hatori wasn't sure who won, but he thought it might be Saki.

The whole thing would have been a lot easier to follow, and therefore interject on, if every movement and every reference to him was in terms of... coupledom.

"See you soon!" the woman said.

"Yes, soon."

Saki nudged him to wave. He did so reluctantly. When the woman rounded the corner, Saki let go, and the smile disappeared along with her arm. Hatori was the first to break the long silence.

"What was that about?"

"What do you mean?"

"You wanted her to think we were a couple."

Saki looked up at him, "You're an idiot."

"What?"

"It was obvious."

"What was obvious?" he said.

"Do you think I was jealous of her? You did think she was pretty."

"What? No. She was, but I'm not looking for that."

"Really."

"If you aren't... jealous, then what? I don't know." he said.

"She's a widow. She thought I was happy, and it made her happy. I wasn't going to correct her."

"That was _not_ obvious."

She fumed for a minute. "Fine." Saki stood very suddenly and walked a short distance. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"If we're going to the shop, we should now."

Hatori walked behind her to the bookshop. She didn't stop for anyone, and people stared as they jumped aside for her. Hatori could've kept up, but he would've run the risk of bumping into one of the confused women she left in her wake. He got there a minute behind her.

The 'bookshop' did have a few books, but those were toward the back. The front held good luck charms, daruna dolls, and various other spiritually endowed baubles.

A blessed key chain made him wonder if everything blessed was for sale, or if it was the extra blessing that was worth the extra price.

He saw Saki lifting a book. She closed her eyes briefly, before opening it quickly to some specific page. She read for a moment, then re-read.

40:

ALAS! the blush upon my cheek,  
Conceal it as I may,  
Proclaims to all that I'm in love,  
Till people smile and say—  
'Where are thy thoughts to-day?'

"Shit," he lip read. She put the book down and hurried to another section, and intensely looked at the wall. He couldn't help but smile.

Of course it was a coincidence. He wouldn't have given her a hard time if it wasn't.

She wasn't acting like it was.

Saki bought something, and haggled with the widowed woman so she wouldn't get a discount. Hatori stayed out of it. They settled on a 10 percent discount on some sort of inexpensive trinket.

Hatori asked a question or two designed to find out her last name. In two months, she received a phone call from a life insurance company informing her her husband had taken out a very large plan she hadn't known about before he died. Hatori wouldn't have interfered, but he got to play with her kid. Only fair.

Hatori missed Momiji to an extent that was silly. Momiji was abandoned at a time in Hatori's life when Hatori needed to take care of someone as much as Momiji had needed care. It'd been a good fit. Momiji had moved out a few months back, and Hatori had ceased to take care of himself as well. Nobody needed him to be healthy, he'd chain smoke and forget meals if he liked.

He saw Saki and the widow's conversation wind down. He came up behind them.

"...well, you're young yet. My husband was a little older too. Don't worry, it does work out well. "

"Oh, I don't suppose I worry much. You're sure your son isn't too shaken up?"

"No! To tell the truth, I could hardly put Kobo-chan down, for how excited he was.

"Down?"

"For a nap," Hatori said.

The woman's eyes lit with realization. Saki felt the woman transfer him from the category of 'man older than me' to 'fellow parent.' Her impression of him also went up a few notches.

"Yes. Sensei left an impression on him!"

"Sensei?" Hana said.

"He called him that. I'm sorry, is that not right?"

"I... am a doctor. I do get called that, by a few people," he didn't add they were people he wasn't close to. "I never told him I was one."

"A doctor? Oooh." She looked sideways at Hana. "And very good with children. Kobo-kun is hard to get to talk these days..." the woman's smile faltered, "Well, thank you very much. It's nice to see him like that again."

The woman lost her composure.

"Please excuse me."

"More than alright."

"Are you sure you can't stay for tea...?"

Hatori shook his head. "Unfortunately..."

"Ah. Well, very nice to meet you two! Oh, Hana-san...?" The woman beckoned her to come in close. Hana complied.

"If he's a keeper, snap him up. Even if they want to stay forever, there's never enough time to waste."

Hana swallowed, "Y-yeah," She backed away and exchanged bows, before leaving the store.

She walked slowly, wiping away tears from her face. She wasn't sad, but the woman... Hana felt like a sack of bricks were sitting on her chest. It would subside in a moment if she got a little distance between them.

"You OK?"

Hana wheeled around to see Hatori silhouetted in the afternoon light. He saw her lips part in the beginning of an overjoyed smile before she blinked, and it was gone. Her face fell.

"What?"

"I... thought you were my husband."

"...Y-you don't have one." he stammered out.

"Ugh. No. I thought you were... hers. Sorry."

Hatori hoped Hana didn't know he could hear them. He wondered, did she have to deal with that all the time?

The crowds had thinned out a little. There was a garden they turned in to, as if by silent agreement.

Hana reached into the paper bag and pulled out what she bought. He couldn't see what it was, since she was on the left side of him. A small rustling noise slightly behind him piqued his interest, but he stayed quiet.

"Oh, damn." she said.

"Yes?"

She pointed to a slip of paper she'd pulled out of the trinket box "It says they attract one another. Bad friendships, ruined by competition, but otherwise alarmingly drawn to each other. I thought this might ward them off. Should have gotten a tiger instead."

"What?"

"Dragons attract other Dragons. How am I supposed to slay them all if they're attracted to me?"

Hatori froze in the middle of the path. Hana didn't notice, and ran straight into him.

She felt the heat of his back through the layers of cloth as she pressed against him. She was about to draw back, when a 'pop' filled the air around her, along with a great deal of smoke.

Hatori wasn't there. What little she could sense of him was completely gone.

She looked down. His clothes were there, Hatori notably absent from them. One of the sleeves hung into an ornamental pond. She began to kneel to pull it out, when the pond belched tan smoke and lurched. The dempa sensed a horrible white shriek, followed by utter silence. She steadied herself and reached in to pull the sleeve out.

When she did, fingers brushed against her hand. The most clear thoughts she'd ever heard from him came through.

_-SHIT. She saw me, no way she didn't. Can't avoid it now-_

They drew back.

He was panicked. He was naked? Obviously he was naked. He had no clothes on. The pond was murky, but shallow. He didn't want to come up for air naked?

Her dempa had been acting funny. There was always an element of survival, in dempa. She found money and food, avoided danger, looked for shelter when it was cold out. Dempa was just another instinct. It had to be interpreted, and sometimes ignored. No, she would not trade sexual favors for fast food. Not even if she was really hungry.

Right now, it was telling her he needed to breathe, and couldn't come up. Why would the dempa want to _save_ him? No time to think about it.

She breathed deeply, and plunged her head under the water. It was murky and stung, so she closed her eyes. She got a very brief view of Hatori's face as he looked up, shoulders bare, torso disappearing into the gray-green.

She tapped her lips and hoped he'd get the message.

His hand touched her face and she opened her mouth.

_His lips are soft. Huh._

He inhaled deeply as she exhaled. He was concentrating on not thinking. The panic was dissipating, but below it was a slow, aching horror that quickly became unbearable.

_-...it doesn't matter anymore-_

His other hand snaked around the back of her head as his tilted a little more. She lost all her air through her nose in surprise. The wind chilled her cheeks when he pushed their heads to the surface, still kissing her as he did.

Hana felt detached, as his emotions surged through her. He felt hundreds of things that she couldn't connect with wanting to kiss her. Horrible loneliness, anger, tension. Her dempa, much like her sense of smell did when she passed a garbage burning facility, shut down entirely.

She could taste him. She never thought people actually tasted like anything, like Shigure's novels would say. Hatori tasted faintly of cigarettes and something she could only assume was Hatori himself.

She felt herself lean into him, but he startled and pulled away. Hana made a faint noise of disappointment. That had been interesting. Their mouths were still open, panting into each other. She was breathing much harder than he was.

"You… have to breathe…when you're kissed. You could get dizzy." he said, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Hana nodded.

_I am dizzy, and I suppose a doctor would know these things. Of course, a doctor would know other things. I feel really odd in certain places. Probably rude to ask about those parts in public and... OH, GOD. Shutup Shutup Shutup. You're getting distracted. no need to get distracted he just... SHUT UP._

Her mouth had gone dry, for some reason. She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue darted out too far and wetted Hatori's instead. He made a noise and kissed her again, softer than before. His hands came to rest gently on her ribs, thumbs barely touching the outer curve of her breasts. She pulled back after a few seconds.

"Nnn?"

"Clothes. You need clothes." she said. Her voice had gone hoarse. Hatori couldn't seem to stop looking at her lips, for some reason. She bit her lip lightly and found it hurt, when it normally wouldn't.

"I... I can go behind a bush," he was also having trouble talking.

"No. People here," she managed.

Hatori's eyes snapped open, "How long?"

"Two since before you disappeared. Four more later. They're watching."

She opened her eyes. His eyes gave the impression in a certain light of being reptilian, but it was more than an impression now. He moved to the edge and positioned his arms to lift himself out of the water.

"No." Hana said. The dempa 'woke up' and frantically warned against him getting out yet. She gathered his clothes and held them out to him.

"You don't want to be seen naked, right? Not something you'd want people to remember."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but nodded. He took them and disappeared again back into the water. Hana turned to face the crowd. There were now eight of them, more than half around her age. One was young, another two an older couple. Hana gave a small smile and waved. The young girl waved back, but the older woman hushed her, and pointed back at Hana, whispering something to the girl.

_Oh._

It was a couple of minutes, and Hatori still hadn't come back up. She glanced behind her. Slowly, she backed on her knees toward the pool and skimmed something off the surface, then sat on it. Hana dipped her fingers into the water again. Hatori tapped them. He was fine...

The people were beginning to whisper. She smiled at them again, the cheesiest one she could manage.

Hatori came back up and went to the edge of the pool. He'd put on his tie. The people behind her made a collective noise.

Saki took something out from under her, and held it out. She didn't look at him.

"These got away from you."

He snatched the briefs from her and shoved them into his pocket, then waded to the edge of the pool and lifted himself out. The people were tittering about something, but he didn't care.

_Down to business. Shit._

He began a slow, deliberate walk toward them. Water rolled down his brow and cheeks, giving the brief impression he was crying. The people who'd been watching froze, like rodents freeze when they know a predator has found them, and she heard that loud ungodly white whine that'd overwhelmed her when she first heard it. It was so loud, she thought, of course they must hear it too, somehow.

Saki grabbed his hand, hard. His head jerked around.

"Bow." she said through gritted teeth.

He snapped out of it.

_Not for long, if I screw up._

"What?" he said.

"BOW. You have to. If you don't-"

She looked him up and down, urgently trying to find anything that he might listen to, and finally settled on "I'll- I won't forgive you."

He paused a moment. He turned fully toward her and bowed.

The tittering behind him rose again. The old man was loudest.

_They're laughing?_

"Not good enough," Saki said. She grabbed his ear hard enough to hurt and turned him toward the audience.

"Bow."

He repeated the gesture, less sure of himself. They laughed again. She patted him on the back of his head, still holding him in the bow.

Saki bowed too.

"Thank you all!"

There was an apathetic applause. The old couple and the girl left first, as the girl was visibly shaken and needed to be taken away from the Scary Man and reassured. The kids Saki's age were discussing something.

"...She wasn't that young for him. It could just be feminine empowerment... something."

"Good acting, anyways."

"Good? It was stupid. I hate performance art, it's so pretentious. They should drop it and just go with the magic act."

"You barely SAW the magic act. The getting dressed underwater thing was..."

They continued arguing.

"You shouldn't have stopped me."

"Why?"

"They saw."

"Saw what?"

He looked back at her.

"You did as well," he said accusingly.

"No. My eyes were closed the whole time, I'm afraid."

"Wait, what?"

"You kissed me. You were also there, as I recall?"

"I mean before that!"

"Oh. Don't do that again."

"What?"

"Disappear. You disappeared. They saw you."

"Did you see?"

"No. It's impossible to see a person disappear. They're gone, when they do."

"How did you know I did, then?"

"They saw it, and thought it was a magic trick. My eyes were closed when I bumped into you. I just felt you weren't there anymore. Don't do that, it was confusing."

"Don't you want to know how?"

Hana shrugged, "Do you want to tell me? I will listen, if you do. Otherwise, I don't think I can come up with what actually happened. No point. I am pretty sure you kissed me though. I think."

"Yes. Come to think of it, you did," she looked up at him. "Huh."

"Wouldn't you know?"

"Lots of people were thinking very loudly at me about it, so I might be mistaken. Please correct me if you didn't."

Hatori looked like a man about to tear his hair out. Hana looked at the ground.

"Oops."

She bent over and picked up the little thing she'd bought, and the accompanying booklet.

It was a necklace made of silver. It had, as a center link in a long chain, a pendant with a dragon coming out of stylized clouds.

"Don't wear that." he said.

"What?"

"Not in public. It isn't safe."

"Oh? I really am having dragon trouble? I though it was a metaphor. Dragons do attract other dragons, then?"

"Yes. So... in private, it should be fine. If you must."

"Is it safe in private?" She watched him for a moment. "... No. It's not, is it?"

"I ought to drive you home now."

"Oh?"

"Your parents will be worried."

She looked shocked, then disappointed. "I thought you knew. No. Dad died. Mom went to grandma's. Megumi and I are in school, so I'm watching him"

"Oh."

"But you are right, he'll wonder where I am. Let's go."

Hana walked out of the shrine, Hatori squishing beside her.


	5. Witnesses

Author's note: I started this story nearly seven years ago, and had it nearly finished and then hit a major block before losing them all in a computer crash. I thought back to it the other day, and said "how would I fix it now?" To my surprise, I had an idea. I thought I'd share.

I've done some heavy editing on the previous chapters to make things a lot more clear. Since this was started back when the anime had just come out in the U.S., I'm going to stick to what I knew then.

I'm going to finish this as a much older writer. I hope it's not too schizophrenic.

Hana cooked breakfast for her brother that Sunday, and tried to keep herself focused enough so she wouldn't burn anything. Since her mom was away and her dad had died, she felt giving her brother the option to sit down with family and have a cooked meal was the least she could do. In a way, she needed it more than he did, and he knew it. It's not that he didn't miss dad, it was that, at 16, a year had been a very long time for him. Much longer than for her.

She thought her brother might notice something was amiss, but if he did, he only tiptoed carefully around her, like he did on one of the days she really missed dad or mom or grandma. So he spent twenty minutes, ate her food and told her it was good and asked her what she planned to do that day instead of going out and being a teenager as soon as he woke up.

The chilly, aloof demeanor they both shared was more endearing in boys than girls, and he had enough of a social life to leave Hana alone in the house.

The house phone rang once, but whoever was on the other end hung up.

She didn't mind being alone, but lately, there hadn't been anyone to demand her time that frequently. She and Tohru were still friends, but she sensed they had larger and larger parts of each of their lives they didn't share with one another. Since she'd met Hatori, she felt much less comfortable hanging out, knowing that his relatives would be closely.

She thought about reading, but never got around to pulling out a book. She watched the shadows creep by. Did she nap? She didn't remember. She must have, because when Megumi kicked off his shoes and padded upstairs, into his room, and closed the door it was nearly midnight.

It was just a bad day. There'd been a lot of those lately, since before she'd even run into the current trouble. She could half imagine that yesterday and the day before hadn't happened, or that today hadn't happened, or however long, back to when she was a little kid again. Even so, she might trade her worries for the ones she had when she was small, but she wasn't sure her younger self wouldn't also be willing to trade. Almost no responsibilities and alone all she wanted to be? Six year old Hana would have made her a deal.

She set an alarm on her cell phone and laid down on the couch to go to sleep. She'd shower and change in the morning.

Of course she'd had trouble concentrating in class. She hadn't worried on her walk to class, the dempa would have acted up if there was any reason to. But each second closer to the end of class ratcheted up her anxiety, but by bit. She took longer than usual to pack her bag.

The thought came to her as she walked out the door: I should go to the grocery. Now. It would be crowded about now. She walked a little quicker than usual and instead of taking back roads and taking her time to look at the foliage, as was her custom, she looked straight ahead. It wasn't too terribly crowded, but the little passing yearnings of strangers flickered and licked her peripheral vision like a dozen little white-hot candle flames. If she was still a little child, she would have sat down to catch her breath. It was too much, after yesterday. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, and trusted the dempa to keep her from running into anyone. She had to open them to keep from attracting negative attention.

She came to a crosswalk and had to stop. She wanted to run home. Again, she inhaled and-

- exhaled, as some of the tension fell away. She slumped a little, as if her shoulders had been held up by wires that were now cut. Her lips parted.

"Hi." she said, just before Hatori laid a hand on her shoulder. It stiffened. He'd been very quiet, he knew.

She turned around and looked up at him before closing her eyes and tilting her head back and forth. He didn't ask. He figured he wouldn't understand. Her eyelids drooped a little. He was reminded of someone on muscle relaxants.

"Why... are you here?" She said.

"Would you walk with me?"

"Where are we going?"

He didn't answer, he just took her hand and started walking. She fell in next to him. She looked down. He was wearing gloves.

"That's smart" she said.

"Thanks. I'd like to apologize."

"What for?"

"I lied about knowing so much about you, and then I dug up your current family problems. It was insensitive. Some of my information was out of date, and honestly, I just wanted-"

"- to scare me."

"... Yes. I'm not a very good stalker."

She glanced sideways at him.

"We usually care deeply about particulars. I'm afraid I'm just punching the clock and collecting my check." She snorted.

"Did you stay in yesterday on my account?" he asked.

"No. I think I'd have preferred if you dropped by. Almost."

"Your brother would wonder why a strange man was hiding behind the TV, watching you."

"He'd probably just be happy I had a boyfriend. My boyfriend _would_ be the kind of man to hide behind TVs and stare at me. And a you're a _doctor_. Everyone seems to think _doctors_ are worth dropping everything for."

"I agree. You seem to be in a good mood."

"You too. I guess I'm relieved is all. I was wound up thinking I'd see you, and it's not so bad once I do."

"It's not completely horrible to be around you either. As for me, I may have figured out a temporary solution to something."

"That's… good." She figured he would have told her if he intended to, and was kind of glad this meeting was relatively friction free. "What are we doing today?"

"I thought I'd take you shopping."

She let go of his hand and stopped.

"Problem?" He said.

"... People are going to look at us and... think..."

"Hm? Go on?"

"They're going to think we're together. And look at our ages and think you're _buying_ me."

"Yes?" He didn't seem to mind. He almost looked like he was enjoying himself.

"I'm... we..."

"I can't keep you a secret, Saki-kun. I talk to you too much to be a disinterested party, and I'm being watched too, as you've pointed out. This is an awful solution, but it's the only one I can think of."

"_Yes_ it's awful. You want them to think we're an _item_?"

"No, I want them to think we're sleeping together."

"...WHY?"

"I'm _allowed_ to sleep with people. Akito might even approve of me using you for sex."

"That's... really degrading."

He shrugged. She started feeling annoyed with how _fine_ he was with this.

"_Why_ are you asking me to go through this? Why didn't you just decide on your own to not see me again? I barely know you, you follow me around, you interrupt my _life_ whenever you feel like it, and now you want me to look like I'm whoring myself out for _shoes_ or something?"

"If there's anything else you'd rather be doing, I can just walk off and pretend I don't know you. I'll have to watch you for a while since I can't erase your memory, but you don't have to see me ever again."

"Wh-why is it my choice? I..."

He looked both ways. She was suddenly aware that people were paying the fighting couple a little more attention. He turned to face her and curled his gloved hand under her chin. He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes.

Instead of kissing her, he bent to whisper in her ear. "Saki-kun, I don't get to have secrets. I'm not giving this one up if I don't have to." He pecked her hair above her ear. She felt boneless. She was terrified. He didn't act like he noticed.

"Sorry. Appearances. Can't look too chaste in public."

"Yeah." she whispered.

"I'll let you think about it. Just say 'when' if it gets to be too much."

"Are you actually asking for me to-"

"Go shopping? Yes."

Hana felt sick. She hated having to play some easily manipulated girl, and hated suspecting she _was_ one. She hated that the dempa seemed perfectly content to go along with whatever it was Hatori was up to- all it cared was she was safe, sheltered and fed. She suspected it had yet another biological imperative it was chasing after as well, and was deeply unhappy about it.

"Is it really so humiliating for you?" he dropped all traces of humor. "I feel like an asshole."

"Yes. This is _really_ bad. But… I can't think of anything either."

"If I'm going to be watched and I have to be awful, I'm going to put on a show. Mind helping?"

"Sure. Fuck 'em." she bit out. He laughed.

"Where are we going?"

"I thought a dress shop."

Ayame was at the sewing machine in the back of his shop when the bell rang. He would have normally sprung to the front, but let Mine get it, as this was a new design and he had just pinned the seam he was sewing into submission. Plus if it was anyone super interesting, Mine-chan would-

"OH MY GOD HOW LOVELY TO SEE Y-"

"WHO IS IT DARLING?" The pins he was holding between his lips tumbled to the ground.

"It's me." It was barely audible, but once the first syllable was uttered, Ayame sprung from the back, overjoyed.

"Hatori! To what do I owe- HELL-o! I see!"

A young, dark eyed girl stood next to him. Her hair was in an immense braid, and she was wearing a high necked lace blouse, and deep red bell-shaped skirt. She had dark stockings, with the seams up the back.

Ayame couldn't find fault with it. The right dress on the right girl. Immaculate.

He cooed at Mine "Go get the back room presentable enough to take this young lady's measurements, would you, love?"

Mine nodded. She saw the inspiration for a half dozen dresses floating in his head, and bounded off to facilitate their creation.

"Hatori…" he looked at his cousin, eyes wide.

"Would you make her a dress?"

"Would I? Ha-chan… She's a DOLL. When did you learn such a discerning sartorial eye, Hatori? Had no idea you had this side to you! Such unexpected, sudden _taste_!"

"I can't take all the credit, Ayame. I hear she dresses herself."

"Ah, you wouldn't know…?" Ayame leered. Ayame checked Hatori for the subtle signs of fluster and…

… nothing. Ayame's eyes widened. "I'm…. I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself! I'm Hatori's _dearest_ cousin, and I am always pleased to meet one of Ha-chan's friends! And you are?"

"Saki Hanajima."

"Saki-chan! Divine! How, exactly, did you two meet?"

The girl paused and knit her brow very slightly. She was nearly as subtle as Hatori. She looked up at Hatori for something, lips parted, then back at Ayame.

"I… I actually don't quite recall. That's…." she frowned.

"We just kept bumping into each other while I was on errands for Akito-san."

"Oh. Yes, we did bump into each other, I guess." She still looked disquieted.

Ayame's eyebrows shot up. Hatori gave him a look and they shot back down again. If the girl noticed anything, she didn't give any indication.

"So, how can I help you? I have a few samples in the back I think would look absolutely stunning on you."

Ayame would have stuffed her into every dress back there if he thought he could get Hatori to go along with it. "Are we looking to stay within the prim gothic lolita, or are you looking for new inspiration?"

The girl, again, looked up at Hatori.

"I'm buying." he said. "How about something custom?"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Ayame, I've seen some of your best work done when you're let loose to do whatever you want."

"Whatever… _I_ want?"

"Well, don't bankrupt me, but go ahead and make my budget a little tight."

Ayame looked in Hatori's eyes for any indication he ought to hold back. Ayame loved making dreams come true, and one of his deepest held beliefs, one which he proved over and over again when he got to work for himself, was that a woman nude, was a beautiful and innocent thing, and that those who would make that obscene were monsters. To prove it, he set out to make creations that could turn their wearer, fully clothed into a breathtaking obscenity.

Hatori would have never let Ayame dress _Kana_ exactly as he envisioned her.

"Hatori, you are always so happy when you're serious about someone!" Ayame said.

"Yes. I think I'm pretty happy now. I haven't had this much fun since high school."

Ayame remembered high school. Shigure, Hatori and Ayame had their own little fan clubs, and unlike Yuki and Kyou, who seemed to find refuge in Puritanism, the trip kept their little harem at bay through some well thought out debauchery. While Ayame and Shigure never outgrew it Hatori did. In his relationship with Kana, Ayame saw Hatori as his truest and best self- faithful, loyal, and with a major stick up his lovable ass.

It'd been hard for Hatori lately. Aya knew Akito had been riding Hatori over something lately, and that Hatori had lost some weight since Momiji had bounced off to college.

In his mind, Ayame saw it: Hatori, wracked with pain now that his little baby bird, the child who had comforted him when his deepest, darkest yearnings for love, given him a reason to live again- flew the coop. Gradually, he could see it, over the months, the old urgings, the longings, overwhelmed him. When Kana had her first child a year ago, Hatori let (let!) Shigure and Ayame take him out to drink- and was nearly convinced again when she once more bore the fruit of her love with another man not two months ago!

And now he was taking refuge in the forbidden passion of a dark eyed little lolita, unaware of her raw sexual power. Like a moth to a candle, she is drawn to something dark in him. A mystery that would consume her, but he can never reveal his secrets to her. He will use her as a flail to beat himself bloody, in penance for letting go his one true love.

"I am… so sorry Hatori!"

Hatori was taken aback. "Is what you're thinking of too expensive?"

"N-No. No!" He would be strong for his friend. Hatori was so fragile, not like he and Shigure, who could get by on guile. Their cunning had spared them the brutality Hatori had seen, and yet intervening, experience had taught him, only spread and prolonged the tragedy. All Ayame could do, he knew, was to be there for him in the inevitable tragedy's denouement, and be the humble costume maker for his beloved, weary protagonist.

"Truly, it will be a masterpiece. It has been ages since I have been thus inspired!"

"You seem happier to make dresses than most girls are to wear them." the girl said.

"You have to be, young lady, or you are in the wrong trade" he said with conviction. "And please, call me Aya."

"Oh? Are you planning to get more acquainted?" asked Hatori.

"Absolutely! We must get her measurements, we must be on… very good terms for the ones I will need."

Hana turned red and looked desperately up at Hatori. He said "I have to get her back before dark, I'm afraid. Write down what you need, and I'll take them for you. I know you normally wouldn't allow that, but you can trust me to be thorough and accurate."

Ayame smiled. Hana turned more red. Hatori seemed to be blithely encouraging her discomfort. Ayame added several levels of kink to their imaginary trysts and re-worked the hemline of her eventual gown in his head accordingly.

Ayame dutifully wrote them down, and handed the folded piece of paper to Hatori. He opened it up, took a peek and quickly folded it up again and stuck it in his wallet.

There were limits, Ayame supposed, even when Hatori had thrown his propriety out the window. Hatori excused the pair of them, and Hana bowed as she exited. She followed Hatori, a step or two behind.

Ayame, of course, found an excuse to fuss with the mannequins in the window so he could watch them go to their car. They didn't go directly there. Ayame's eyes widened, and he watched.

"That was a good touch, not remembering how we met."

"Oh good, I was afraid I was supposed to make something up."

She stopped at the car, he kept walking.

"What now? We're not done?"

"Not quite. Ayame's melodramatic."

"I noticed. He's not a very good spy."

"He's not a spy, he's just a fantastic gossip. Anyway, I thought if I had to lie to him, I'd make it one he really enjoyed. I hope you had fun."

"It was interesting," she admitted.

"Good. Would you follow me? I think we have to give him a good exit."

He walked across the street, toward a pair of little boutiques, one jewelry, one for shoes, that shared customers happily with Ayame.

"Ugh. I'm all shopped out."

"That's fine." He took her hand in his gloved one, and to her surprise, they headed neither for jewelry nor shoes, but toward the alley in-between.

"Are we planning something? He can still see us, you know."

"I'm going to be rude. Pardon."

Hana guessed how just as he pressed her ribs firmly against the wall. With his other hand, he lifted her chin. She heard the white noise again, but very faintly, as he relaxed his mental guard.

"Can you tell I'm being honest, Saki?"

"Yes."

"This is very important. Whatever happens, don't touch me. I can touch you. We'll start there, ok? Can you tell how important this is?"

She did. He was much more ernest than excited. His eyes were such an odd color, she thought.

He bent down. He pressed his forehead against hers. They were breathing the same air again, she thought.

"This is probably adequate." He whispered. "All he needs is to see some… tension."

Hana was shaking. She'd been standing on her toes with her knees locked against the wall and needed to sink a little. He backed up and let her slide down the wall a little, but she kept her face turned upward. He bent down further so they could stay whispering.

"You could have said you were uncomfortable."

"I… wanted to know what would happen next."

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

"You're telling them a story about us, right? What happens next?"

"Ah."

He ran his fingers down the sides of her neck to her shoulders, and pushed her arms down stiff against her sides.

"Pardon." he said, and kissed her hard and open mouthed. When she kissed back she wasn't sure that she needed to because he needed it or because she did, and she didn't care. They blurred together at the edges, and she didn't placed one of her hands on his head, held the other, and pulled her deeper into the alley. When they were no longer visible to the shop window, he pulled away.

"I need you to take off your stockings."

"I- I don't think I'm ready for-"

He ran his fingers over her lips "Shh. Not what I meant." He pressed her back against the wall, and held her left elbow to help her balance. She took off one shoe, and clumsily rolled it down her leg. She nearly stepped on the ground barefoot twice before finding the shoe again.

"I don't think I can do the other one like this." she said.

"That's OK. We've got a little time. Another minute or two."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. I can't let you catch your breath."

"OK."

They nodded at one another. He kissed the corner of her mouth, and then the corner of her jaw. His hand, which started on her waist, crept up until he'd placed it over her breast as he sucked a little on her earlobe. She gasped and he stopped, and they stood there, still and breathing heavy. He kissed her cheek, then her temple, and let her go.

He leaned up against the wall next to her. He looked flushed and had sweat under his collar.

"I think you look messy enough. Do I?" he said.

"Yeah. Should I take the other one off?"

He nodded quickly and panted. "Just one on would be silly."

She kicked off the shoe. He retrieved it while she peeled off the remaining stocking, leaving her two. She stared at them in her hand, not sure what to do. She didn't want to pitch them. He pantomimed shoving them down the front of her dress, and she obliged. She stretched out and discovered he'd bruised her arm a little when he'd helped hold her up.

"Sorry." He said. She shook her head at him. He held out his hand, and she took it and followed him out of the alley toward the car, making sure to look every bit as flustered as she felt. Ayame emoted loud enough she could feel him when they were back in view of his dress shop window. Hatori pulled out his wallet and the little piece of paper Ayame had given him, and waved it cheerily at the window.

"Did he see?"

"Yes. He thinks he saw a _lot_ more than he did."

"Good work. I don't expect we'll have to do anything this elaborate for a while. I'll have to explain myself to one or two people, but I don't anticipate much fall out besides that."

He cracked a window and lit himself a cigarette. He offered her a drag as he turned the key, and she waved him off.

"This all was… really inappropriate, Hato-san." He opened the car door for her. She laughed a few small, hoarse chuckles and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes as they drove off.

"I learned from the best. Do you want to say 'when' now?"

"…No!" Shigure said, in a tone that didn't convey disbelief as much as it begged 'tell me more!'

"Yes!" said Ayame. They were alone, but he still beckoned Shigure closer. Shigure leaned forward, because that was part of the fun. "And when they drove away… he had brought her to _tears_!"

"No! No, you _lie_! You lie, and you lie, and you _lie_!" Shigure exclaimed, each "lie" going up an octave until the last one broke his voice. Ayame, who had been trying to keep a straight face through his story, finally cracked up.


	6. Secrets

Uo looked incredibly embarrassed. She'd said sorry over the phone, and explained she couldn't pay for lunch. Hana volunteered to cook dinner for her, and the first thing she said before walking though the door was, "Jeez, dude, I'm sorry."

"No. I understand. Come in." Hana took her coat and hung it up. She walked Uo to the table and sat with her.

"I dropped the _ball_. I mean, shit got too overwhelming and I just disappeared for like three weeks."

"What happened?"

"So, yeah, this guy, Tanaka. I knew him in middle school. He was a real jerk, but we were both yankee, so I guess that meant we hung out. Most kids didn't hang out with yankee at 13, eh? So of course I'd seen him around. He comes up, all friendly, when I'm on the night shift at the store."

Hana nodded. Uo had been the general manager of two convenience stores, but still had to work as a cashier if someone didn't show up.

"So of course I say 'hi.' And he's acting funny, but yankees act funny. It's what we do. Next thing I know, this young gal comes up to buy a boxed lunch, and he GRABS her and asks for my till. And of course, we slip all the large notes into a little safe. I don't keep the key on me when I'm cashiering because if I did and someone found out, some asshole'd rob the place every night someone called in sick and I covered for them. But I'd TOLD him I was the manager, and he was sure I was bullshitting him."

"And... well, shit Hana. You know? He runs out, someone calls the cops, I have to hold that girl's hand. I've... I've been... I've had some fights. When I was a kid. I've seen someone get their head split open and... It's a lot worse. I mean, it was just, half the ground. It even got in my hair. It took like three showers the first day to get most of it, and my nails still stunk of it for the next three days."

She sucked on her bottom lip.

"Christ, I'm sorry. It's just like, I think about it, and I get stuck on it."

How did you get arrested?

"One of the customers overheard us talking about how we used to ride bikes, and I got grabbed as a possible accomplice the next day. In front of my _ma_. They take one look at me, they know I was a yankee. I did ride bikes with him. I rode _ten speeds_. Some kid from down the street who bleached his hair, and who I played with after school a couple times a month over a decade ago? Goddamn cops. They let me go two days later when they knew they had nothing."

"So you've been out for a while?"

"Yeah. But I lost my damn job, and fuck if I wasn't thinking non-stop about that girl. So I went to bed for a week. I spent the next week eating pot noodle, watching TV, and applying for jobs. I didn't talk to anyone. Sorry."

"Any luck?"

"Hell no. I'm thinking maybe of applying to be an office lady. Be perky and sweet for a living. Take a listen" She made her voice helium-squeaky "?"

Hana smiled. "That... sucks."

Uo laughed. "'Sucks.' Yeah. Love it. Thanks for not fussing over me. What've you been up to?"

"I've been pretending to be the 'paid' girlfriend of a doctor so his mobster family doesn't know I am close to finding out their deep dark secret and kill me."

Uo laughed again, but stopped when she saw Hana look down. She was pretty sure everything Hana talked about had been real to someone at some point, but whether it was a part of reality Uo would ever interact with was another story.

"This... one of Tohru's bosses stories?"

Hana thought. "I'm sure he tells a version of it, yes."

"What's their deep dark secret?"

"I don't know. It's a secret."

"Man... I guess you had to have been there."

"I think so."

"Sounds like you've had it rough?"

Hana nodded. "Aw. Tohru was always better at this shit. I'm sorry you're having a rough time. Are you really dating a doctor, though?"

"That is a really complicated question."

"Make him uncomplicate it. I don't give a shit if he's a doctor, don't settle for a guy who doesn't think you hung the moon. Is he hot?"

Hana made a sour face. "He's... yes. Very."

"Is he packing?"

"That's vulgar."

"AH HA. That wasn't a no! Go for it. He sounds nutty, so don't marry him."

"I'll keep it in mind. I've made soup. I insist you eat."

"I'm not super hungry, but-"

"Yes, I know. But you haven't been eating enough lately. I haven't either. I insist."

"OK, mama."

Hana watched some TV before she went to do the dishes. She heard someone gently rap on the back door. Since she hadn't felt anyone, she knew who it was.

"You told her an awful lot."

"Nothing she believed. Do you think anyone would take it seriously if she repeated it?"

"You cut it extremely close. Extremely."

"You're here. I must have been successful."

"You only _nearly_ got me to grab her on the street, wrestle her down, and erase her memory?"

"Yes. I made soup."

"I know."

"There's one more serving. I insist. I have a little rice left, I will eat next to you so you don't think I am staring at you while you eat. People hate that."

He shook his head.

"Why? Could someone else be listening?"

"Yes. Your brother."

"I'll tell him my boyfriend is a doctor. And I think you could probably be a great deal stranger than you are before people pay more attention to your oddities than mine."

"I ought to argue with that."

"That would be nice of you. But not necessary. Thank you. Soup. Now."

He didn't dole out any compliments. He just ate it until it was gone.

"Do you listen to me when I'm talking, or are there recordings?"

"I'm not really keen to talk about it."

"You try to make it sound cute when you have to."

"It's disgusting. It's better to be glib than creepy."

"OK, it's disgusting. When do you listen to them?"

"When I get time, usually not very long after. You aren't very chatty. Why?"

"I just don't know what you do with your day. If you're listening to them as it happens, it'd take up much more time."

"Why did you figure I'm recording you, instead of some other method?"

"Well, you could be following me and eavesdropping all day. Or maybe there is a third psychic, who also can shield his aura from me, and whose job it is to be just like a tape recorder. Or you could have just gotten a tape recorder."

"Fair enough."

"So, I guess you're just like a normal doctor otherwise?"

"Mostly. Akito's sickly and likes to malinger, so that takes up a good chunk of my time. I've had a lot of free time lately. Momiji is gone at college, so he's not taking up any of my day now. I seem to have a lot of free time."

"Well, at least you keep yourself busy." Hana thought for a moment. "If you don't think watching me is good, why do you do it?"

"This only just occurred to you?"

"Well, I thought you thought it was normal."

"If I did, why not ask about that?"

"It doesn't matter. That's not the case. If it was, that seems like a very personal question. I don't mean to intrude."

Hatori searched her face for any sign she was mocking him.

"I guess, I'd... have to give up everything."

"Hm. You are wealthy."

He made a face at her. "I'm a _doctor_. I guess I wouldn't have the luxuries I have now, but I could do pretty well by myself if money were the issue. I mean my family. My routine. I have no idea what my day would look like, how I'd act with strangers."

"Because you have a secret?" He shot her a look that usually intimidated people into silence. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to pretend privately that you having a secret is a secret?"

"Stop asking me about it."

"I don't see what difference it makes if I know or don't at this point. How would my life change? I'd still have some funny man dropping in on me."

"You don't _seem_ to resent it. Maybe you like it."

"Are you implying I'm _odd_? I haven't heard that one before. You don't resent me much either."

"Only when you pull stunts like today. You or your friend or both of you could have gotten hurt."

"By you. Because you have to keep a secret."

"Yes!"

"Do people close to you know it?"

"Of course."

"Are we close?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Would you like to hug me?"

She frowned. "You threatened one of my best friends a minute ago."

"We're not close. We're just prisoners in the same cell."

"Oh." Hana closed her eyes. She very consciously tried to stay relaxed, but she felt her heart start to beat quickly. She felt an urge to run out the door, find somewhere to go hide.

But he would be there. She didn't know what to think about that. If she lied, he'd find out.

"OK," she said, faintly.

"Hm?"

"I guess I... was hoping." she opened her eyes again.

"Oh." he said.

"Do you think... we'll ever be close?" she said each word very carefully.

"No. I'm sorry."

"Even if I knew?"

"I... there are other people who know. And... with very little exception... Look. Ayame, he's probably one of my oldest friends. I tricked him. I'd do it again. He'd do it to me, if he had something that... something he felt he had nobody could touch."

"If he did, would you take it away from him?"

"Yes. It'd threaten everything. Even if it didn't threaten the secret, he'd have something the family couldn't take from him if the secret got out."

She nodded. She relaxed her face and let the nausea she felt pass over it.

"Excuse me, I have to make a phone call."

"It's late. Who to?"

"Tohru-chan. We're having lunch tomorrow. I don't think I'll feel up to it."

He waved her off. She made the call. She said the same thing. "I don't think I'll feel up to it."

"I'm... sorry," he said, after she hung up.

She shook her head. "Sit with me a while."

"Do you really want me to?"

She thought about it and said, almost surprising herself, "Yeah."

He ruminated for a minute. Hana started to say something, but he hushed her while he finished thinking. He said, "I have some… affection for you, I suppose." Hana raised her eyebrows. "Maybe a lot. I meant it, I plan on keeping you as long as I can."

"How much of it is because I'm 'your secret' and you're stuck with me?"

"Hana-kun, you'll learn as you get older that not every feeling you have comes from urges in yourself you like or respect. I could criticize every moment of happiness I have. But I'd prefer to enjoy your company, even if that enjoyment is necessarily limited. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to stop dissecting ourselves for the night."

"OK."

They stayed up and chatted. Talked about books. He left late, and she laid down on the couch.

She knew she'd done the right thing, even though Hatori had revived the appeal of the situation after she'd made the call. Hopefully, Tohru would do exactly what Hana believed she would.

But she half hoped she was wrong.


	7. Plans

Torhu was taken aback a little by Hana's very brief response. In her early twenties, she was still with the Souma family and had moved up from cleaner to personal assistant to Shigure as Shigure's books had gotten more popular.

She had also learned to trust her own feelings of discomfort. As a teenager, she might have excused Hana as having just a bad day and made a straightforward effort to cheer her up next time they saw one another.

At twenty two, she would still do this. But she knew she was more uncomfortable than she should have been if Hana was merely in a bad mood, and that was worth investigating a little bit.

She sent an email to Uo, explaining that she was unexpectedly free for lunch. Uo accepted. They met outside a favorite noodle bar of theirs. Uo bounded up excitedly

"Tohru! I just heard, I've got a job! It kind of sucks, but I'm gonna be a bike messenger! I can work that. I'll own the place in two years tops!"

"Oh that's wonderful news!"

"Hell yeah! I'm paying! How are you?"

"Ah... I'm OK!"

Uo was not convinced. "What's wrong?"

"Ah... I don't like being obvious. I am really happy for you! Especially after everything that's happened!"

Uo patted Tohru's cheeks and pouted, like a mother would for a small child who'd been scratched. "No sweat. Tell me all about it."

"I feel bad for being in a strange mood, after all you've been through."

"Hey, look, no worries. I feel bad that suddenly nobody's allowed to have problems because they think mine are so bad or something. Everyone's got problems, mine don't take from yours. We've talked about this. Let's get beers with our noodles and commiserate."

A little smile crept across Tohru's face. "Okay."

Uo launched into an animated story about a pair of performance artists her friends had seen at a temple during the plum festival a three weeks back. The waiter stealthily took their order from Tohru as usual so Uo didn't have to stop talking. Uo realized just before getting to the good part that she hadn't asked Tohru what was up.

"So, what's bothering you, sweetheart?"

"I'm just... a little worried about Hana."

"Ooooh, her doctor problems?"

Torhu stiffened. "She's sick!"

"No, no, no. Is there something else?"

"No, she's just acting really funny. I thought you might know something."

"Aaaaah. You're right, something is up. I'm not sure of all the details, you know how Hana's perception can be a little hard to get sometimes?"

"Yeah, sometimes. When she's stressed."

Uo thought about it for a second, then brightened. "Yeah, I guess that is when she does that. Man, you're the best people decoder ring."

"Well, you're the best-"

"Oh hush and take the damn compliment. Say 'thank you.'"

"Aaah... 'thank you.' Um... so what did she say about a doctor?"

Their noodles came. Uo started slurping immediately while Tohru waited for hers to cool down a little.

"She's a fan of Shigure's books," Uo said between bites "and this sounds like something he'd write, so I'm not sure if she's mixing the two up a little? You'd know, you proof read 'em, right?"

Tohru blushed. She did. She'd only recently caught on that he sometimes wrote things for her to "proof read" that were basically thinly disguised people she knew doing... things she had not personally done much of. He never submitted these for publishing. In a very rare fit of temper, she rolled up a newspaper, hugged him from behind, and swatted him over the nose once she'd gotten him to admit he was doing that to her before stalking off to her room so she wouldn't be there when he changed back. She apologized profusely for it, and was increasingly embarrassed when she was privately congratulated for it by half a dozen members of the Souma clan.

"Yeah." She broke her chopsticks apart and started eating.

"Hahahah, it's great you don't get jaded. Well, there's this doctor. He might be connected to yakuza or somethin', she's not quite sure. There's some kind of secret to that family, and if she finds out, she's afraid she's in big danger. They're doing the dating for money thing, she says, but that part doesn't sound like her at all."

Tohru dropped her chopsticks and covered her mouth.

"Whoah, you OK?

Tohru thought quickly started coughing as a cover "Oo, yeah, just a little hot, and it went down the wrong pipe. I'm OK."

"Recognize the story?"

Tohru was not good at lying, and Uo would know immediately if she tried. "Um... yes. The characters I think. It's just... it's not been published. But I know it."

"Whoah. So you think she's got a little psychic connection going with Shigure."

"Um, maybe. I... I think I'd know. Maybe someone he's familiar with. I uhm... probably can't go into details. My employer wouldn't like it."

"Oh, oh, oh, can't have any spoilers floating around. Must be awesome to be the first to know what's next."

"Oh, uh, the thing with Shigure is, I'm not sure I ever do know what's next."

"Guess I shouldn't expect less from the Prince and Kyou's cousin. Anyway, whatever it is, it seems to be bothering Hana a lot of she's talking about a book as if it was what's happening." Uo's slurping turned pensive. "This sort of problem seems to be your area of expertise. I'm not good at dragging it out of her, I'm better at clean up."

Tohru nodded. Uo was responsible for the shock and awe stage of dealing with a problem. Tohru was reconnaissance on top of her usual kissing it better duties when Hana was out of commission.

"It seems... like... I think part of the problem might be the secretive part?"

Uo raised her eyebrows at Tohru "It's not like you to really try to fix things. You normally sotra trust people to find their own way. You're super good at that. I'm not, but I suck. Why this time? Just be yourself. I think it's the best thing you can do for her."

"It just sounds... really bad."

"Ya think?"

"I really do."

"Then... I guess I think it's super important to go in unarmed. It's you at your best, darling. Your best is all you can do. It's OK if it can't fix everything."

Tohru leaned back and stared up at the light fixture for a couple minutes until Uo interrupted her. "Eat. Before it gets cold. Or I will."

"I just don't know what to do."

"Well, are you close enough to Shigure to talk about this? It's his story, maybe he'll have some ideas."

Tohru's eyes darted back and forth across the table as her normally slow thought process sped up so fast she wasn't sure if she would remember it all.

"... Yeah. Yeah."

Tohru looked up at her friend. "Uo, I might need you to do something for me. I can't fake it. But it's really important."

"Shoot."

Tohru told her. Uo gaped at her. "Fuck no. What's gotten into you?"

"I, uh, think I know a little about what's going on with her. An-an-and it's... bad."

"Aw, seriously? Wait... you're involved in this?"

"No, I just, I... listen. I guess I've been in a similar situation. I'd be breaking confidence with Hana and Yuki if I told you all about it. I'm really sorry I'm keeping it from you. But this is really kind of... I guess high stakes? Just trust me? I'll tell you everything I can. This is really important."

"... Shit." Uo rubbed her face. "If you were anyone else, this would be goddamn nuts."

"Yeah."

"Ugh. I guess one wacky thing once a decade is doable. And I'd probably do it for a dude. It sounds like something I'd do. It's just... it's you. You're my baby girl."

Tohru shrugged with one shoulder, like a little kid and batted her eyes. "I'm tougher than I look."

"Hahahahah, sheee-it. So run that by me again. What's the plan?"


End file.
